Tick and Tock
by OnlyANorthernSong
Summary: After Batman and Superman confront two super villain siblings, they are sent to the past. But why did they send them here? Superman, Batman, Flash
1. I Should Have Known Better

Changing pasts and making up super villains. All in the day of the life of a bored nerd. That's me!

Disclaimer: No. I don't own JL, or any other superhero team. Thanks for reminding me.

_Prologue- I Should Have Known Better_

Rudolph stood before him, brown hair spiked, mouth a grim smile, his skin tanned and his breath smelling of alcohol and tobacco. Wally cringed, anticipating what he knew was inevitable. Mary walked in and saw him.

"Wally..." Her voice trailed at her husband's glare. If looks could kill... "Rudy." She said, her voice uncommonly stern and decisive. "Step away from him. Now." Rudolph turned to her, his face contorted with rage.

"What?" He demanded slowly.

"Now." She repeated, not caring to repeat the actual message.

"He's my son." He said, stepping towards her. "I'll go near him any time I want. I'll go near anyone any time I want."

"Rudy." Her voice was back to it's usual wimpy tone now that his focus was on her, and not on her son.

"No." His soft voice was manipulating and hurtful, and Wally stared at his mother, and then at him.

"Rudy..."

"No!" He lashed out and smacked her face. A red mark began to spread on her face, and Wally knew it would be brighter soon. Rudolph lifted his arm again threateningly, and Wally felt a tear trickle down his face as his father's hand met his mother's face. He fought away his fear and wiped away the tear, and he stood before his father with the carefree grin he wore.

"Wow." He said, trying his best to sound amused. "Bet you feel like a big guy now, huh, Rudy?" Since he was a baby, he'd been forbidden to call him 'Dad'. 'You're not my son!' The man had shouted drunkenly. It had haunted Wally for years. Rudolph turned from Mary.

"What?" he demanded.

"Just saying," Wally replied with a nonchalant shrug. "I mean, if you were really a man, you wouldn't beat up a girl. That's kinda... you know. Weak." He spoke the last word with superior disgust and his father glared at him.

"Don't get uppity." He warned darkly.

"Why not?" Wally asked. "You can only beat up girls. Real guys don't beat up girls." He met his father's eyes and threw in the kicker: "If you were really a man, you would beat up men. You couldn't take me down in two punches." Rudolph glared.

"How about ten?"

* * *

"Ah!" Flash jumped out of his seat and slammed into the metal floor. John, also known as the Green Lantern, eyed the Flash.

"You okay?" John asked between laughs. Flash glared at him.

"No. I had a horrible nightmare." John raised an eyebrow, concerned at the sudden seriousness at which the young hero addressed him.

"What happened?"

"There was a supermodel who didn't want to be with me." John laughed as Wally held his eyes. "Don't laugh." Wally replied. "It was terrifying."

"Don't worry." John said sarcastically. "That'll never happen." Flash smiled and nodded.

"I know. Scary thought, though, right?" Green Lantern, also known as GL, laughed. Batman slid into the room.

"Sleeping on your watch?" He asked, his voice icy cold. Flash stiffened, so slightly that John wondered whether the great detective had caught it. A glance at the content look on Batman's face (Kind of hard to see by most, but John could tell) said he had.

"Catching up on my beauty sleep." Flash replied, with an easygoing grin. John noticed his voice sounded strained, as it often did when faced by the strict rulings of the 'human bat'.

"Gotta catch on it some more..." John joked quietly, hoping to break the tension. He was hoping he could before Batman noticed it, because he knew that Flash was easy to manipulate, since he wasn't that smart, and probably didn't know there were mean people in the world that didn't destroy the world in public. He had seemingly been raised in a perfect world where he was kept oblivious of the true nature of people. If Batman took Flash under his guidance, he could probably be much more effective, but John didn't want his friend to be taught in such a manner.

* * *

Flash was intimidated by him, he knew. Even if he covered it up by disrespecting him in front of the group. Every time he did such a thing, Bruce, A.K.A Batman, saw a look of embarrassed fear raising in the speedster. He didn't dislike the child, Wally, but was annoyed by his constant barrage of jokes. He hoped that his conquest for respect from the team would end with him achieving some maturity.

He doubted it would.

However, despite all of his immaturity and 'Not the sharpest tool in the shed' mind setting, Batman truly did like Flash. Even when he was mad at him. And he was mad at him a lot. Sometimes it seemed like Wally was only messing up because he wanted to see Batman's reaction; and that just annoyed Batman a lot. Of course, he never let his emotions seep through when he was in Flash's company- maybe the speedster didn't know how much he annoyed him, which was a lot. Batman didn't feel, however, that he should have to list the reasons why. Of course, he didn't see why not.

"You keep falling asleep when you should be paying attention, and you never pay attention during meetings." Batman accused in a gravely tone. He watched the young man shrink in stature, though he held his grin in check.

"Well, if the meetings included things that interested me-" It seemed he knew that was the wrong thing to say, and John knew it too, for he quickly broke in and said,

"Supermodels and food don't have to do with wars and energy crisis'," He said with a smile. Flash managed a laugh, like he always did when anybody else on the team attempted a joke, even at his expense, then turned to Batman.

"Yea, I get that." He paused and Batman got the rare feeling that the next words spoken by Flash would be sincere. Flash turned to John and asked, "Hey, can you spare a buck and get me a soda?" Even though Flash could get the soda in seconds, John seemed to notice his need to be alone to speak to Bruce, and nodded reluctantly.

"Sure." He left the room.

"What is it?" Batman demanded.

"I think that, yea, wars are important and all, but they get started on smaller degrees." Flash's eyes averted Batman's. Of course, you couldn't see the eyes on either heroes behind the special mask lenses, but the way his head was tilted and the way his body leaned indicated that he was eyeing the corner.

"Yea...?" Batman asked, sounding impatient, though he had a great tendency to wait, and if need be, he could wait for hours for the Flash to continue.

"I think that part of the team should oversee some of those meetings of the you-know... group of people from different countries?" Batman sighed.

"The U.N?" Flash nodded.

"Fine." Batman wasn't in the mood to argue, or to explain anything. The Flash seemed momentarily content, before continuing.

"And I think," He paused again. "And this is just a suggestion, you know..." Batman noticed how much more respect and self-consciousness' was in his voice when they were alone together. Maybe he was afraid that without the others, he would get beaten up? Batman nearly laughed at the thought. Flash's ego was bigger then North America. He didn't think Grodd, or Lex Luther could take him down. He wouldn't be afraid of him, seeing as how he wasn't a mindbending ape or, as far as Wally knew, a billionaire. To Flash, he was just an average Joe with a sulking mood and a clever mind. Batman let himself smirk inwardly. Flash probably thought he was as smart as Batman.

"Yes?" Batman's voice was cold, disguising the smile he had fought seconds before.

"Um..." Tired of the pauses, Batman gave him the coldest glare he could muster.

"Now." Flash blushed.

"Never mind... I was just going to see if we could get video games in the tower, and you are in charge of funds, so..." He paused, then ran out. John returned with a root beer seconds later.

"Miss something?"

"It's okay." Batman replied darkly. "So did I."


	2. A Day In The Life

Still don't own it. Actually: I did make up Tick and Tock... I don't know that much about the JL, so I made up villains. Hope you like them. If you don't, well.. sorry? Review!

CHAPTER 1 _A day in the Life_

The Flash walked into the meeting a little late. About two hours late. He slid into his seat as he got the respective responses to his tardiness:

Wonder Woman- _Confused Frown_

Hawk Girl- '_I'm going to kill you if you're late again' Frown_

Superman- _Disappointed I'll-get-over-it Frown_

J'onn Jones - _Same as when he's happy, sad, or sleeping Neutral Frown_

Green Lantern- _Hidden Smile Underneath A 'Why are you late?' Frown_

Batman- _Death Glare_

"Sorry I'm late, guys," He began meekly. "Um... hot date." Batman's scowl deepened.

"Relationship won't work out," Flash continued, ignoring his black-clad teammate. "They-" John looked surprised, and hid a smile of approval for his young friend. "- Got into a little trouble over this scrap. Apparently they were robbing a bank and holding people hostage. Interestingly enough- way we met!" Superman raised an eyebrow while Hawk Girl smiled.

"Huh?"

"Had to appear for a testimony to lock some thugs in jail for taking a bank by siege." Flash replied, with an enthralling smile. He grinned. "Were hot, though." Finally understanding, Superman released a laugh. Batman, however, did not.

"And you neglected to tell us?"

"Well, you do recall me trying to tell you?" Flash replied. "Anyway, gotta get back to Central. I don't want them to get the death warrant, and seeing as how they, being bird brains, picked the lawyer who fathered one of their hostages...!" He rolled his eyes beneath his mask and left with a broad grin.

* * *

"Why'd he bother coming up here?" Diana muttered. Batman glanced up from his brooding. He had been wondering the same thing.

"I don't know." he snapped, an rare answer. "But I don't care. We have to get to work." This was a much more common saying. Diana sighed.

"Fine. Now, about these kids?"

"Tick and Tock."

"Bet Flash would be sad he missed out on this," John muttered. Batman sent him a glare.

"This is no joke." He snapped. Another common phrase, though usually directed at Flash, and not at the usually disciplined ex-marine corps officer. Green Lantern shrugged.

"So, why not?" He asked.

"They possess the ability to put things and people into a time warp." Batman replied, easily flowing into the speech he had mentally prepared. "They can't control where they send the person, or people, or things, as far as I know, but they can send them somewhere. Some people have been zapped and sent ahead two days, or weeks, and others sent back months, or days, or seconds." The other league members nodded with interest. "Some haven't come back at all." Superman cringed slightly, as Batman expected. The boy scout, as Flash dumbly called the man who could easily kill him with a flick of a finger, had seen death and great horrors, but he still seemed sensitive about them when they arose. Not naive, like Flash. Just... uncomfortable, as though the entire thought that there was evil in the world disorientated him. It did that to a lot of people, but, as the Man of Steel, Batman had always felt that he should be able to handle it. Like him. He held lots of things inside, more then any other league member could anticipate, except J'onn. He had seen more death then any other league member EVER would. John, as a marine, had seen death.

Diana had left her home and her mother, but she was immortal and seemingly insusceptible to death so far in her life. Superman's family had died, but days after his birth, and he had been raised by a caring farm couple. Hawk Girl seemed to be hiding things at times, but as far as he knew, she had known no death on Thanagar. Her parents, he knew, were alive and well. And Flash? Well, it seemed to Batman that that boy must have had the best childhood any person could. He was the cheeriest person Bruce knew, even in the worst of times. He didn't even bother a thorough sweeping of his past. His grin never wore away due to chagrin or anger. It gave way only certain times, and a person would always know they were in trouble if Flash's grin ceased to exist. Of course, his grin could also mean they already were and he was lightening the mood. And Batman?

"Batman?" Diana sounded concerned.

"I was thinking about Tick and Tock," Batman lied. "They send a person through the time warp by touching them,"

"So?" Superman demanded.

"They're teenagers." Batman explained. A knowing smile crossed John's face, then he quickly blushed.

"Flash would have something to say about that," Superman laughed.

* * *

Superman and Batman sped down the road, side by side; Batman in the batmobile, and Superman in the air slightly above, surveying the damage.

"Tock's been here."

"And Tick?" Batman's icy reply.

"Out of sight." Superman replied. "The damage is leading from Gotham to the north..." Tick and Tock were fraternal twins gifted with an extraordinary ability: time travel. However, they could not teleport themselves, or each other. Tick and Tock were a little like Hawk and Dove, when one thought about it. Both could only use their powers when their sibling was within sight (though Hawk and Dove had to hear each other) and they couldn't when their sibling was incapacitated. So, though they were a handful together, they could be beaten if only one was knocked unconscious. Then they were simply kids with a grudge. A big grudge. Tick and Tick, real names James and Lily, had been in accident when they were kids after being involved in a study at a secret lab. Batman or Superman, they felt, should have saved them. Now they blamed the League. They were in horrible pain for two years, and accidentally sent their loved ones to an unknown time period. After this, all they had were each other. No matter how often they hugged each other, or touched each other, or talked to each other, they could not harm each other. They were impervious to the effects of their time-travel touch, so to speak.

Now, they were no longer seven-year-olds scared out of their wits. Now they were teenagers with incredible powers and a grudge. They had been nicknamed Tick and Tock cruelly, and to keep their rage, they kept the names. They had become slightly mad because they could not touch anyone without sending them to the past or to the far away future, and their insane anger was bestowed upon the Justice League.

Batman had researched their past, and followed them here, and he knew their weaknesses. Superman was extra muscle. Flash and John had business in their own cities, Hawk Girl and Diana were investigating a distress call in Asia, and Jo'hn was on monitoring duty. To Batman's chagrin, he himself had Bruce Wayne business to attend to, but had chosen Tick and Tock instead. After all, in a fight between his two personalities, Batman, with his glowering stare and his intimidation, would always win.

"Up ahead," Superman sounded content. "I see them."

"Both of them?" Batman questioned.

* * *

"Tock." Superman replied, sounding cautious now. Tock, Lily, had spotted them and turned. Despite the situation, the fourteen-year-old look pretty. Her long black hair hung to her hips. Her lips, rosy, were twisted in a snarl, then contorted into a smile. And a smile on a super villain, young or old, is never good. She was slender, for anything she touched directly was sent into another time. In order to eat, she had to be cautious. Once inside her, it seemed the powers did no longer take effect. She put one hand to her hip, then lifted the other in a wave.

"Now you show up," She said in a mockingly smooth voice. "You're about ten minutes late for some lady and her brat." She smiled again, her dirty teeth shining.

"You're about eight years late." A new voice corrected. It was deeper then hers, but equally smooth, and equally strange. Superman turned his head to see the young man, as did Batman.

He wore what his sister wore: a strange material found in the lab where the accident was. The only material that wouldn't immediately disappear into another time. They had worn the same stretchy clothes for eight years.

Superman stared at the young boy behind him. Bags hung beneath his eyes, and wrinkles covered his face from his incessant grin. Not unlike Flash's, Superman thought, except for this boy's eyes. His eyes were dark and glaring- Boring into Supermans'. His face was thin and his manner cold. His voice was like his sisters'; fueled by rage and control. They had to control things a lot; anything they touched with their own hands went away. Their gloves were off, literally, though, as they were on a rampage, running through Gotham, killing those who didn't deserve it by sending them to random times. If it wasn't for that, Superman would have pitied these kids. He still did, but he also hated them.

"Stop it, James." He warned. "You know what I can do."

"You didn't do it when we needed you, though, did you?" The accusing, controlled voice replied. "When these people needed you." His face fell into the grin. "You're always a little late. How about a second chance?" Tock laughed from behind him, a wild laugh that lost her her control. Superman twisted to face her. Her face fell calm again.

"We got you pegged," She informed him. "You know who we are, and we know who you are." She smiled deeply. "We're happy, and we want to make you happy, too." Batman glared at her through the window pane of his plane.

"Lily." His voice was cold with none of the warmth Clark had feigned. "You are Lily." She laughed.

"Hardly. Lily was a six-year-old the government abused. Lily was a happy go-getter. Lily, in short, is dead!"

"I thought you said you were happy." The girl's face changed into anger. She lost control often, Superman realized.

"We are." The brother's voice again. "We're so happy, Bruce." Superman felt his heart beat faster, and noticed his partner's face remain emotionless. "And you could be, too." He smiled. "We mastered it a little better, Bruce." His voice sounded pleading. "We know what time we send people to, now. We know. Go ahead and do it. Save them." Tick turned to Superman.

"And Clark," he continued, not missing a beat. "Or Kal-el, whichever you think is the real you. You could save it- your planet. You real home. And you could leave me and Tock, because we're happy." He smiled. "And you aren't." Superman sighed.

"You aren't either, James."

"Tick!" The boy shouted. Superman realized that, though Tock let her emotions show more, Tick's display of his own were much more dramatic. In short, it seemed Tock had more control in all. Sort of. "I'm not James- James is dead like your parents are!" Superman couldn't tell if he meant Bruce's or his own. "James died when they went away!" He continued in a flurry of emotion. "James went back with them- back to whatever godforsaken time they got sent to!" Superman stared.

"I went too," Lily reminded her brother. Then she smiled creepily."And they can too." Comforted, Tick nodded.

"You can be happy," Tick murmured to the two heroes. "_WE_ can make you happy. You can go back. Superman- you can help Krypton. Batman- You can help your folks. You guys don't have to live like this."

"If we didn't, who'd stop you?" Batman demanded quietly. Tick smiled.

"Well.." Superman noticed that Tock wasn't next to her brother anymore.

"Hugs for the man of steel!"

* * *

Batman gaped with fear as he realized the situation- Superman was going back. Way back.

* * *

"God- where are we?" Batman opened his eyes. Superman stood a few feet away from him.

"I messed up." The man of steel said quietly. Batman leapt to his feet to find himself- well- not quite where he had been. The situation flooded back into his mind: Tick and Tock- Tock jumping onto Superman- the entire ship around him going... somewhere, even though he didn't- Tick and Tock laughing about him as he fell unconscious- Tick grabbed his shoulders-

"Where are we?" Batman repeated. Superman shrugged and sighed.

"I don't know. I just woke up a second ago, and tried to figure it out." The haze around Batman cleared itself into an alley. "Gotham?" Superman ventured. Batman shrugged.

"A little clean to be my city- a little clean to be any city." Superman nodded.

"What year do you think it is?" A car rolled by on the road, and Batman nodded to it.

"At least eighties." Superman nodded in agreement, and laughed,

"Think we'll fit in?" Batman replied with a smirk. He noticed a newspaper in the dirt and grime of the alley floor.

"1993." He said offhandedly.

"Guess we won't anymore." Superman said with a dejected sigh.

"We could say we were retrogressing."

"Not exactly a lie,"

"Not exactly true," Batman nodded as Superman laughed briefly.

"Why did they send us here?"

Batman replied with a shrug. "I don't know." He finally admitted. Superman nodded.

"Guess we should find out where we are."

"Guess we should get into clothes that don't make us look like... actually, I don't know what they'd make us look like. We already exist here, so...?" Superman shrugged and chuckled.

"Right," He ran, the immediately returned with two suits.

"Pay for them?" Batman asked with raised eyebrows. Superman shrugged.

"I will." Batman shrugged, then began to pull the pants over his tights. He took off the cape and stuffed it into his pocket, and then draped the large shirt over himself. He pulled off his gloves and cowl, then eyed Superman.

"Well?" The man of steel whirred quickly in a circle, and a replica of Clark Kent (Without the glasses) emerged. "Fair enough."

"So... Where." The newspaper had the name ripped off and the article was wet and soggy, so they left it. They began to wander through the city. Finally they came upon a newspaper stand.

**_Central City Climax_**

"So, the Climax." Batman noted. "Central City."

"Wish Flash was here," Superman sighed dejectedly. "He knows this city."

"Wistful thinking doesn't do anything but take up time." Batman snapped. "Let's go." Superman followed the very pissed off Bruce Wayne. Suddenly, in the middle of a street, a drunkard stumbled into view. He looked familiar.

"I don't care about 'im!" He slurred. A woman walked into view, looking distressed and familiar as well. _Dammit_, Batman thought to himself. _He knew these people, didn't he?_

"He's your son!" She shouted at him.

"You're a whore!" The man accused. "He could be anyone's!"

"I've been loyal to you for seven years!" She shouted. A mark on her face seemed to agree with her.

"You went to the cops!"

"It ain't legal what you do, Rudy, and I was weak!" She said pleadingly. "I'll tell them I wanted attention; that I was lying. Baby- I won't do it again!" The man paused, then drunkenly hit her.

"Better not!" he told her. She cowered then nodded.

"You know I love you?"

"Bitch." He muttered. He entered a house, and she followed at his feet like a lost puppy. "Where is he?" The man demanded. He looked at her. "Huh?!" She shrugged.

"He was home before."

"Damn it!" He shouted. "I come home; a good, loyal husband who stays with his chicken shit wife, and my damn kid ain't home!" He turned to the street. "Wallace!" He shouted. Batman tensed. That wasn't the familiarity, was it? That the pictures of Wally,_ Flash_, were close to those of these people. "Kid!" The man repeated. He cursed under his breath.

"What is it, Bruce?" Superman asked. He had noticed his anxiety.

"It's just a hunch." Batman replied darkly. "Wallace is the-" alias of the flash... he tried to make he words leave his mouth. _Not until I'm sure_, he decided.

"...Is the?" Superman asked. Batman shrugged him off.

"Never mind." He walked briskly around the corner they'd been looking around during the fight and down the street. He passed his house. HIS house? It was pretty crappy... _You don't know_, he told himself. As they walked, they wondered about James and Lily; Tick and Tock.

"Why'd they send us here?" Superman repeated. Bruce shrugged again, equally perturbed. "If they understood how to send people to a year pre-chosen, why didn't they send us to the Jurassic period and be done with us?" Confusing Batman's silence with interest, Superman continued. Bruce was actually wondering if there was a way to get back to their own time, and there was only one that made sense, but, then again, it didn't. Time Travel was a concept that even the Dark Knight had problems understanding. "They sent us both here, and we were touched by different kids. Me, Lily, you James, so this year must be special."

"This year?" Batman asked quietly. Superman turned to him.

"Why else would they send us here?"

"You assume it's this year," Batman replied quietly. "It's pretty cold though, and I think that it must be in late December,"

"So?"

"New years is coming soon," Batman explained impatiently.

"And?"

"They were born next year." He replied. "In January."

"So you think...?" Superman's face went pale."You think they wanted us to kill them."

"They weren't happy." Batman replied quietly. "And if we kill them, we'd be saving everyone they killed." Superman stared at him.

"You honestly think-"

"I don't know." Batman snapped back. Superman sighed, then nodded.

"Why'd they send us a month before they were born?" He asked a few minutes later. Batman shrugged.

"I told you." Superman looked up.

"I don't know," Batman repeated impatiently. Superman nodded, embarrassed.

"Oh." There was a moment of silence. "So, how do we get home?"

"I don't have a time machine in my belt, if that's what you mean." Batman replied with a scowl.

"So, you don't know?" Superman asked. Batman turned to silence him with a glare.

"I think I've made that clear." Superman paused.

"What if we didn't."

"Mmm?"

"What if we didn't go back, even if we found out how? There were so many-" Superman paused. "So many things I could have stopped; things I should have stopped that I didn't, because I was too busy with mediocre bank robberies," Batman turned turned to the man before him, who was dressed like any other man in the area.

"I will not mess with history."

* * *

There was a coldness in his voice Clark didn't hear very often. A coldness he didn't like.

"Ever." The man finished, his blue eyes fierce and sharp.

"Okay." The man nodded briskly, and continued in his walk. Superman shrugged and followed. He wondered vaguely whether he would, if he had the choice.


	3. Tell Me Why

Sorry that it took so long to update, and I know this is a REALLY short chapter, so, sorry! I'm sorry if this isn't very good- I wanted to hurry it because I won't have internet for a while. Thanks for the great reviews, tho! BTW: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING!

Chapter Two_ Tell Me Why_

Bruce walked faster. He knew that the Man of Steel could keep up with him, but he strayed behind. He apparently knew that he had to think, and he thought best in solitary. Years of friendship seemed to have taught him only that. Bruce saw a small boy happily picking at a rock, then throwing it at a small bird. He grinned as the bird flew to the darkening twilight sky. The small child had light strawberry blond hair, and he had a chubby face. The child had a small bag beside him, most likely full of toys. Despite the feeling that he knew the kid, Bruce walked on. Superman, A.K.A Clark Kent, stopped.

"Hey, there," he said warmly. Bruce wondered why Clark was acting so dense; he could be messing up history by doing what he was doing. The child looked up fearfully.

"I'm sorry," He mumbled.

"About what?" Clark looked noticeably surprised by the child's apology. Bruce wasn't curious. The kid had probably pick-pocketed a cookie. The child didn't respond. "Why are you sorry, son?" The kid looked up, looking a little shocked.

"About the bird," The young boy replied, and Bruce had the feeling he was lying. Of course, it was easier to know when kids were lying, but it usually took him a while to know when someone was lying if they didn't show signs of it. And this kid wasn't showing any signs. Who is he? his mind demanded. He had no answer.

"Well, that wasn't nice, but you could apologize?" Clark replied helpfully. The kid blushed; he obviously seemed surprised that this big man had believed his lie.

"To the bird?" He asked doubtfully. Clark shrugged and nodded. The child shrugged. "Sorry," he called to the sky, to which the bird had fled. Clark nodded, smiling proudly. He stood to walk away.

"Hey, kid." Bruce said gruffly. "Go home." The child's face blanched, then reddened, then he nodded stiffly.

"Sure thing." The kid, who looked about five, began to stand.

"Can I trust you to?" The kid huffily snorted.

"Yea! I'm almost six, you know." Clark hid a smile at the child's proud behavior.

"Still, we'll walk you home." Clark sent him a confused look. Bruce shrugged, and the kid blushed.

"That's okay. I'm really fine."

"We'll walk you home."

"You don't know-"

"You do."

"You're strangers."

"You already talked to us," The boy frowned and blushed.

"Still." The child shrugged awkwardly. He picked up his bag, and lugged it over his shoulder. Bruce turned to Clark.

"Why are we walking this kid home?" Clark whispered. Bruce shrugged.

"Does he remind you of someone?" Clark shook his head.

"No."

"He reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

"Don't know." The child stopped at a house and pointed at it.

"That's me." He said. "Thanks for everything. Bye." Bruce didn't budge as Clark began to walk.

"Head on inside." He said. The child paled again.

"Um..."

"Listen, kid." Bruce told him with a glare. "Why are you running away?" The kid looked scared and angry at the same time, as Clark looked confused.

"Huh?"

"This isn't his house," Bruce replied as though it were painfully obvious. Clark looked at him, surprised.

"How do you-"

"For one thing," Bruce replied, interrupting him without a second thought. "He doesn't want to go inside. For another," he pointed to the small car in the driveway. "Not enough room for kids. And-" he pointed to the small bag. "At first I thought it was full of toys, but he was playing with a rock when we found him, and he has been carrying the bag easily, light because it's filled with clothes, and not heavy plastic toys." The boy frowned.

"Are you a Sherlock?" Bruce glanced at him curiously, as Clark looked amused.

"Mm?"

"Sherlock," The boy repeated. "The homely man."

"What?" Bruce was thoroughly confused, until he finally understood. "Oh. Sherlock Holmes. The detective." The kid looked momentarily perturbed, before nodding quickly. "Um..." Bruce shrugged. "Yes."

"You must be Dear Watson!" The kid shouted, excited, as he pointed to Clark. Clark looked at Bruce, who smirked.

"Yep?" Clark ventured.

"Awesome!" The kid said, practically jumping with excitement. His face darkened. "You don't look like you do in the cartoon." Bruce rolled his eyes.

"Kid. Why?" The child shrugged awkwardly.

"Why what?"

"Running. Away." Bruce replied in a growl.

"Um..." The kid blushed. "I wanted to go to the store."

"The store."

"Yep."

"With clothes."

"In case mine got dirty. On the way."

"Then why were you playing with a rock?"

"I took a break from walking to the store."

"Why-" Clark broke into the conversation, looking extremely bored with the questioning that was leading nowhere, but to the child's embarrassment, and to Bruce's amusement.

"Just let us walk you home...?"

"Wallace." The kid replied unhappily. Something tugged on Bruce's mind, but he ignored it.

"Good. Lets get you home," Clark said helpfully, clasping his hand protectively over the childs'. Bruce followed grudgingly. He hated it when the tactics employed by the 'boy scout' worked. He had to hold people over buildings to get his point across. All Clark had to do was ask for a name. Wallace led the two down many streets, and Bruce began to wish he had just ignored the kid's lie when they had met him. They were supposed to be looking for a way home, not messing up the past. Of course, if they were doing this, and they had come from the future, then the future had to stay the same, because the past had never been-

Bruce rubbed his head hatefully.

Time Travel sucked.

* * *

"So, Wallace. Almost six, huh?" Clark asked. He had noticed that the young boy was getting nervous, and talking seemed to calm him. Now, his face brightened considerably.

"Yep! I'm going to go to school, and make loads of friends." He gloated gleefully.

"Sounds great!" Clark told him, and, with that simple compliment, Wallace went on to talk on, and ON, about the excitement of starting first grade. Soon, the three were on a long street, and Wallace stopped, staring at his feet.

"We're here." After having walked all day, Clark didn't recognize one street from another, but a glance around his shoulder told him that Bruce was wary.

"Wallace?" The billionaire asked.

"Yea?"

"This is where you live?" The child nodded.

* * *

"Yep." The kid walked slowly up to the driveway, and tossed them a wave. Then he went to the door and knocked. Clark began to walk away, and Bruce slid into the shadows. They couldn't be seen. The fact that Wallace had already seen them was a mistake. The kid looked back to say something, and noticed they were both gone. "Watson...Sherlock?" He called out nervously. The door was suddenly ripped open and a looming shadow cascaded onto the young boy. The silhouette of his father, Bruce realized.

"Wallace." The word came out cold and with an edge that made child cringe.

"Hi, Rudolph."

"Where were you?" Wallace looked at him, his body language screaming fear. Bruce now knew for a fact that Wallace was Wally, _Flash_, and that this man  
was his father. How many Rudolphs named their kids Wallace?

"Playing."

"It's late."

"I know, but-"

"Get inside." There was a threat hidden into the command. Batman didn't trust Rudolph, and, apparently, neither did his son.

"But-" The man took hold of Wallace's arm, and tightened his grasp.

"Now." The child cringed.

"Yes,"

"Mm?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy." The teasing aspect of the voice made Bruce want to leap from the shadows and tackle this asshole, especially when he basically dragged the five-year-old inside. Clark was suddenly next to him.

"What happened?" He asked quietly. Bruce contemplated telling him who the five-year-old Wallace was, but decided against it, for now.

"His father got him inside."

* * *

Clark knew that Bruce wasn't telling him something, and though he ached to know, he trusted his judgement. He did not, however, trust the man who had pulled Wallace inside.

"Bruce." His mouth felt bitter and unused. "We- we can't just walk away."

"Why not?" Bruce demanded. "This is his past. If we change it, we risk changing him."

"What kind of guy will he grow to be if he is raised in these surroundings?" Clark demanded. He knew he trusted Bruce's judgement most of the time, but this was a five-year-old they were talking about.

"We don't even know what his father will do to him." Bruce replied. His voice sounded strained, and Superman ignored it.

"You're right." Bruce whipped around and sent him a glare.

"This is the past Clark. We already exist here." He moved in closer to emphasize his point. "We didn't help him then, or now, and we won't help him. It's as simple as that." Clark glared at him.

"Bruce..." he trailed off. "Who is he?"

"What?"

"You know him. Don't pretend you don't. If you know who he's going to be... at least tell me." There was a pause.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bruce finally announced. "But we both know the ramifications of changing the past. No matter how much you want to." He turned a wistful eye onto the house. "As much as I want to." Clark eyed him, wishing that he could do what J'onn could. And just know who this kid was. Know what was going on in Bruce's head. But then again, he doubted he would want to know.

"Bruce." His tone was soft now. "I know you think that I... that I understand all of this. I do, really. But we don't know the exact logistics of time travel. It's impossible, simple as that. But we've done it more then once, haven't we?" He chuckled lightly. "You have to be able to trust me by now. You _have _to." Bruce turned to him.

"Come on." He said. "We have to find James and Lily's parents."

"Why?"

"You already know." Bruce replied with such a dark edge to his voice that Clark felt frightened, even if he could beat this guy to a pulp with one punch. Then again. He started to wonder about Batman, wonder if he could beat him, if he wanted to. He decided 'what if' questions only led to problems and tension, both of which he was already enduring.

"Fine."

* * *

Okay, that was chapter 2! Yay! I finally updated! I know this chapter wasn't much, but Wally will come back. I know that Wally was sort of out of character (sorry) but I PROMISE he won't be when he comes back. Cross my heart. Meanwhile, Clark and Bruce are going to have some problems looking for the parents of the twins. Uh-oh. Thank u for telling me how to spell J'onn's name- I'll fix it on all of the stories : )


	4. Act Naturally

Okay... finished my other fan fic (Amazon Lover), and decided to work on this one. Yay!

_**Act Naturally**_

_Act naturally._ The advice Bruce had provided the Man Of Steel annoyed him to no end. How could he? They were going to tell these parents that they had to kill their kids. They were in the past. And Bruce wanted him to _Act naturally?! _He glared at the back of the Dark Knight, as he had been for ten minutes now, and wondered if there was a way to save James and Lily, as he had been for the entire day.

"What is it, Clark?" Bruce snapped, twisting around to face him. Clark blushed, and tried to act innocent.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been glaring at me for a while now, which led me to believe..." he walked towards him and poked him forcefully in the chest after each word. "That something was wrong." Clark rolled his eyes.

"Other then the fact that the only way to survive this is to kill babies?" He demanded. Batman didn't respond. Instead, he turned around. For a full five minutes, there was silence. Until...

"I've been thinking all day." Bruce told him, speaking with a hollow edge to his voice. "And I can't come up with anything else."

"If we thought... we can stop. Stop and think." Clark told him.

"We don't know how time travel works." Bruce finally said coldly. "This- this is our only hope."

"Damn it- you can't actually believe that!" Clark shouted, rolling his eyes. "Aren't you the one that's always saying, 'There's another way?'!" Batman turned to face him, and his blue eyes pierced into Clarks'.

"No. Flash says that." His next words sounded pained. "I'm the realist, remember?" He continued at a faster pace, and Clark walked guilty behind him. He realized that this had to be as hard for Bruce as it was for him. He mentally kicked himself, and tried to refrain from any further conversation.

* * *

Bruce picked up his pace. The thing that annoyed him the most right now was that he didn't know how to fix this, and Superman wanting to pick a fight was, well, just annoying. Of course it hurt him that they had to hurt children in order to save them. How could it _not?! _

Superman seemed to think he wasn't thinking about helping the kids- what else would he be thinking about? The newest movie to come out in 1993?!He grumbled to himself, then noticed a small robbery taking place in an antique store to the right of the heroes across the street. Superman nearly pounced at the sight, and the Dark Knight held out his arm.

"Clark. No. Past. Remember?" Superman looked dangerously close to shooting lasers from his eyes, but he relented under the very cut lecture Bruce gave.

"I know." He grumbled. "But...someone could get hurt!"

"Clark-" Bruce was rudely interrupted due to a gunshot. He cursed his luck as the Man of Steel flew off to investigate.

* * *

"What's going on here!?" Clark demanded, landing just outside the door of the establishment.

"Who the hell is aski-" The man before him, holding a gun, blanched. "...Superman?!" Clark allowed a smile to breeze across his lips as he wondered what this guy must be thinking- _Why the heck is Superman wearing a business suit?_ "But- but this is Central City! And this isn't some super villain! It's- it's just a little-"

"Hostage situation?" Clark guessed grimly, his eyes wandering around the room and falling to three people, unconscious on the ground, and one who was trembling with a gunshot wound in his shoulder.

"Still isn't an alien, or anything!" The person continued, frantic. Superman raised an eyebrow.

"Do you really expect me to leave because you aren't an alien?" He questioned. The man blushed. "I didn't think so. Now, you obviously know what I can do, so, why don't you turn yourself in, and we can put you in jail, and put this nasty mess behind us? Attempted murder is better then full-fledged murder, and jail time is better then a cracked rib." He held his fist up threateningly, though he knew that he wouldn't break the punk's rib- he would just pick him up and plop him in jail. The man, deflated, nodded slowly.

"Yea."

"Good. Anyone with you?" The man shook his head.

"He's lying." Clark turned to see Bruce, and stifled a bout of laughter. The man was wearing a crude mask made out of the cloth he had been wearing. Obviously because Bruce Wayne was a well-known face, he was unable to show his face as anything other then a background character. Although he was older, by more then a decade, the resemblance was more then passing, and questions would be raised.

So Bruce's great defense against questions was to wear a mask made out of a jacket. Superman contained his smirk, then frowned.

"I knew that." Clark snapped. "You find them. I'll call the police and handle this guy." Bruce nodded with a roll of his eyes, muttering, as he passed,

"The future-"

"Will just have to deal with having a few people not die." Superman interrupted curtly, walking over to the man and grabbing him. As they flew to prison, Clark heard people shouting,

"Oh, my god! Is that Superman?!"

"No- it's someone else... wearing a suit... they've got a hostage!" And just with that one statement, all of Central City was screaming their heads off, and running in circles.

"Bruce is going to be mad," Superman sighed under his breath, landing in an alley in order to be less conspicuous.

Memories suddenly flooded into his mind-

--

_"Gee, Lois, sounds neat!"_

_"It is, Smallville. You should-"_

_"Lane, Kent!- something big is happening in Central City! Meta or somthing- thrown the entire populace outta whack."_

--

-Superman paled.

"That's not good," He muttered.

"What?" The man to his left asked worriedly.

"Nothing." Superman quickly lied. "Let's..." Bruce's lecturing him slapped into him, and Superman reluctantly continued. "Let's let this one go."

"Wait- you're letting me go?" The man asked, shocked.

"Yea." Superman replied, refusing to elaborate. The man didn't need a reason. He scurried off.

* * *

"Get out now. The police have been called, and one of you punks has already been caught." There were no sounds that responded to this. "I can handle Joker," Batman muttered to himself darkly. "But I can't handle a couple of street rats?"

"Who you calling a street rat?!" A young man leaped from the shadows. Batman quickly intercepted him, and he soon lay unconscious on the ground.

"Going to mess up the future, but no..." Batman continued. "That's not what Superman is worried about."

"Hey! Let him go!" Another man jumped, and he soon joined the first.

"He's worried about some antique shop. Everything here is ancient where we come from, anyway." He paused, as he waited for the third and (he had already figured out how many there were) final criminal to emerge. "Maybe not ancient. Old, though." A young woman walked slowly out of the darkness.

"Let them go, vigilante."

"Mm." Batman let his eyes study her for a minute, and deciding she was not a threat, inquired, "Why?" She took out a gun and grinned.

"Guess."

* * *

Clark hurried, knowing that he didn't have much time to spare. As he turned the corner, he heard a familiar voice.

"Why?"

"Batman..." Superman soon emerged from the suit that had been Clark Kent, and entered the antique shop just in time to hear a gunshot.

* * *

I know, I know- incredibly short. You may be asking, 'Why was the wait so long for a chapter so short?' In reply, I shall reply a reply that will explain. In my next update. R&R- it gets me excited enough to take out my LAPTOP and write. Yay. Oh- btw, just to clear it up, in this story line, Wally is the first and only Flash. Uncle Barry might pop up, but just as an uncle and not as...you know...Flash. I'm making up his past as I go along, because I don't actually know anything about his real fake past. So, there you go. Did I mention R&R? If not, R&R. If I did, R&R. If you can't remember... you get the jist.


	5. Two Of Us

Okay! I updated! Yay! I think I'll buy my own ethernet cable when I get the money, because my brother is sending me glares Batman would be impressed by whenever I say_, Hey..._Insert Name Here_, you know the internet? You know how you have an ethernet cable? You know how I don't? You know ... etc... _and... yea. So, if I do that, I might be on more! Yay! I have no life! Anyways... this is the new chappie, and I hope you like it. Please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own: DC, or any of it's characters. I am in no way affiliated with DC. Any resemblance of these characters or happenings to actual occurrences or people (living or dead) is purely coincidental.

Was that not a fancy disclaimer?

_**Two Of Us**_

Bruce realized he wasn't Batman a little late. He realized he wasn't wearing the costume about two seconds late. He had known, of course, but for so long, he hadn't had to worry. So, when the bullet pierced into his leg, where his boot was supposed to be, he actually let a cry of pain escape, before silencing himself quickly. He regained the composure he had held in seconds, but he was still embarrassed. The woman smiled, holding the gun up again, and cocking it.

"Bye," She said with a vicious grin, pulling the trigger. Bruce lunged to the left, and cringed at the pain. The bullet was still lodged in his leg. He fell, hard, to the ground, and managed to lift his eyes until they landed on the woman. She actually laughed, and pulled the trigger again. This time, with Bruce wounded and on the floor, there was no way she could miss. Batman closed his eyes beneath his makeshift mask, just being thankful that, when he died, the person who killed him wasn't going to have the satisfaction in seeing fear.

God, he loved masks.

He awaited the stinging- or the biting. But the lead never bit into his flesh, and he cracked his eyes open, to see Superman standing before him, in full costume, his shoulders broad.

The gun clattered to the ground, followed quickly by the terrified felon as she fainted. Superman caught her before her head hit the floor, then he turned to Bruce.

"Batman?" He asked cautiously. Bruce was surprised. He had been wondering why Superman had run the risk of dressing in costume when he already existed. _Guess this explains it,_ he thought wryly. _This is Superman from now._

"No." He replied. "I was just in the neighborhood, and saw a robbery." He let his voice waver so that it was nothing like the controlled tone of Batman, or even Bruce Wayne. Superman eyed him skeptically.

"Listen. I may not be as good a detective as you, but I pride myself on being able to recognize a voice when I hear it, Bruce." Batman rolled his eyes.

"What if it hadn't been me, Clark?" he demanded, letting his voice fall back into his own. "You would've just given some civilian my name."

"I didn't say your whole name!" Superman argued defensively. "Don't worry so much." He raised an eyebrow. "So... any particular reason why you left the dank cave and headed for Central? Is it because of the Meta?"

"Meta?" Bruce asked slowly, already fearing the worst.

"Someone with a hostage," Superman explained, extending a hand to help Bruce up. Batman ignored it, and the pain in his leg, and he stood. Superman glanced down and saw it. Fear and guilt flashed over his face. "You got hit.." He sighed, staring at the small wound. Bruce shrugged it off.

"Doesn't matter."

"I should've been faster. I heard you, and got changed- I heard the last time she shot. I wasn't listening when I was getting changed- I didn't think you were in danger- I-"

"Doesn't matter." Bruce repeated forcefully, interrupting him. "Anyway- why are you here? Meta or not, don't you have a day job? Don't people ever get suspicious?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Superman replied with a small smile. "But I got sent here for my 'day job'. Lois and I were sent to check out this story- the meta. And of course, I have to stop him. Might be a good story for Lois, while Clark is off going to the bathroom."

"What a slacker." Bruce joked dryly. "Always in the wrong place when Superman gives a good story."

"Guy has no luck," Superman replied with a smile and a shrug, looking puzzled by the small joke Bruce had made. "So if you didn't know about the Meta...?"

"I was in the neighborhood as Bruce Wayne for business and saw a robbery." He replied, lying easily.

"I doubt that."

"So...then why am I here?"

"Because-" Superman was cut off by a man in a suit. Superman was cut off by Clark Kent.

"Batman, we have to-"

* * *

Clark looked at the face before him. It was younger then his own, but he was sure, that to Bruce, who stood near the wall a few feet away, it must have been somewhat like a mirror.

_This is too much like meeting the Superman Lord,_ Clark thought to himself unhappily.

"Batman..." Superman- the other Superman- began slowly.

"..."

"I think I just found your real reason for being in Central." Bruce glanced up.

"This would explain it, wouldn't it?"

"Not really," Bruce glanced at Clark, who knew what he wanted. As fast as he could, he grabbed Bruce and bolted.

"He can follow us," Clark reminded Bruce, worriedly glancing over his shoulder once, then squeaking fearfully when he almost ran over a truck when he looked back. "And I thought we weren't supposed to contaminate the timeline! You were in there chatting!"

"First of all," Bruce snarled, held under Superman's arm. "You're one to lecture about contaminating timelines! What the hell were you thinking flying him to prison! We could have called the police.You could have walked him to prison. But what did you do!?" He demanded, his voice dark and filled with rage. Clark cringed. He hated it when Bruce got all mad at him, and would simply yell or lecture until he thought whatever message he was trying to distill had been understood. "You made the entire populace of Central City think there's some flying guy in a suit kidnapping people!"

"Suffice to say it was a bad choice, but it's a choice that's been made, so let's concentrate on now," Clark replied calmly, finally stopping in a small deserted area that looked like a park. "We need to find someplace where he can't find us. Way far away from Central City."

"Okay." Bruce agreed. He hesitantly stepped out of Clark's grasp. Superman gasped as he noticed blood on the pants.

"You got shot?!" He demanded. Bruce sent him a glare and then nodded curtly.

"But it doesn't matter."

"You got shot." Superman repeated with a roll of his eyes. "We need to go to the hospital."

"Are you even thinking?" Bruce snapped. He subtly leaned against a tree. "One, we don't have any money. Two, Bruce Wayne is alive here. Three, I'm fine. It's just a-"

"Flesh wound?" Superman offered, crossing his arms. Bruce shrugged.

"We have to find James and Lily's parents."

"I think that's pretty low on our to-do list, considering the situation." Superman replied coldly.

"It's our foremost concern." Batman replied sharply. Clark sighed and leaned his head back, as Bruce continued. "And you'd find us if we were way far away from Central. We have to go somewhere where he- well, you- wouldn't look."

"I think I would look in public places first." Clark replied. "You know, libraries, hotels..." He shrugged at their surroundings. "Parks."

"Where would you check last?" Bruce demanded. Superman wondered why he didn't already know. His mind flickered onto the wound, and he wondered how much pain the Dark Knight was actually in.

"Private homes." Clark replied after a small hesitation. "But that's not exactly an option. After all, we can't go anywhere like that right now. No matter where we go, we'll be subject to risking the timeline." Bruce, mask ripped off, looked thoughtful. "What?" That look had always came before a foolproof plan.

"We need to go somewhere to collect our thoughts and figure out where the hell these people are." Bruce announced, forcing himself up from the tree. Clark nodded, confused. "There is one place where we can go."

"But Bruce Wayne is a face that most everyone knows, even here in Central City- we can't be sure who knows what you look like, and who doesn't."

"Just come on. We'll walk- if you don't mind. I don't think we need any more attention."

"Yea." Clark replied unhappily. "We've got me chasing us-"

"And knowing you, you'll go to the first place you think I'll go."

"Meaning?"

"I'm not that predictable, but you are. You'll first go to the cave- see if there is anything that explains why he saw you- himself- in Central City."

"Meaning?"

"He'll find me."

"..."

"And he'll say what happened, and he'll demand to know where you are..."

"..."

"And then we'll have Batman on our trail."

"...Damn."

"You can curse?"

"Not funny. So where can we go if the Dark Knight and the Man of Steel are trying to catch us?"

"I think it will be about an hour until you find me and talk-"

"At least they can't make 'wanted' signs." Clark joked, his voice strained as he felt fear rising within him. If he and Bruce didn't kill these kids fast, then not only would they be stuck in the past, but the past versions of themselves would be trying to catch them at every turn. Since Batman was the best detective in the world, and Superman had X-ray vision, the fact that they were teaming up for people that looked exactly like themselves, with mannerisms of themselves, seemed a fairly easy task. What was worse was that they weren't the ones chasing the perps (Well, they were, but... Clark was just confused...), they were being chased. That always sucked.

"-So if we walk fast, or hail a taxi, we can be there in less then an hour."

"Okay," Clark agreed, hoping his voice was steady, and not portraying too much of the fear he felt. "Where is it?"

"Think about the only people we've met in this time." Bruce replied coolly.

"..." Clark suddenly felt realization slap him cold. "You don't mean that kid?" Bruce smirked.

"I _do_ mean that kid."

"Well- he might not recognize us, but his parents-"

"Seem a bit too preoccupied to notice anything." His voice was cold. "Come on, Clark, weren't you the one rooting for helping him?"

"Well- I-er... uh..."

"All talk?" Bruce raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Unlike you." Superman glared at him.

"You're the one who said we can't help him because it'll change who he is in the future."

"But if we get rid of James and Lily, then we'll have never be sent back, thus not changing the future." Clark stared at him for a moment.

"I hate time travel."

* * *

With no money to speak of to pay for a taxi, or even a bus, Bruce and Clark began the long trek towards Wally West's home. Bruce could only pray to a God he didn't believe in that when they eventually made it back, Flash would still exist, and that he wouldn't have changed.

Because annoying or not, the kid had a good heart. And even if, in training, Bruce would want strain him, to see his limits and expand them, and make him stop joking, he would never ever want to change that.

His fears of a butterfly effect occurring were accentuated by the brief scream that erupted from the house they were approaching. The scream ended abruptly.

* * *

End of this chapter!

Yay! Wally's back! Well- that might not be too good for him, but I love writing about him. Sorry Wally!

Sorry if it's short, btw!

Review!


	6. Cry, Baby, Cry

OKAY! I updated. Great, huh? I know the chapters are super-short lately, and that's just because I never have time to write, but I really wanna wrap up this story, so sorry if anything is too short. This is also just a little chapter to get set up for some other stuff I have planned for poor Wally. Grins devilishly

More long updates and short chapters in the future. Don't forget about me!

R&R

_**Cry Baby Cry**_

Bruce rushed forward, leaving the second fastest man alive (currently the fastest, if you also exclude his younger version) in his dust.

"Bruce! Is that-" Batman was already on the doorstep, heart beating fast, his wounded leg stinging, reminding him against his will that he was only human. He pounded on the door.

"Who is it?" A rough voice slurred. As a response, Bruce pounded again. Clark arrived by his side, looking anxious.

"We should have stayed," The man of steel muttered, his face pale with fear. The door was swung open, and Bruce was struck with the resemblance. Although the man before him had brown hair, he looked a lot like the pictures Bruce had seen of Wally (when he was older). However, unlike his son, this man had no smile- no kindness in his eyes. His mouth was in a tight frown. His skin was tanned, with wrinkles cutting into the smooth skin. Even nearly a foot away, Bruce could smell the alcohol radiating off of this man.

"What'ch'you want!?" He demanded drunkenly. He glanced back in the house, then turned back to the two men on his doorstep. "I'm busy."

"Mr. West?" Clark glanced at him sharply. Bruce remembered that Wally had never actually said his last name, and that Clark was probably confused as hell. A ghost of a smirk would have breezed onto his lips, had it not been for the worries pounding in his brain. The man rolled his eyes.

"Yea. What do you guys want?" He repeated, leaning against the door frame.

"We-..." Clark fumbled with what to say.

"We wanted to see your son." Bruce replied evenly.

"What'd he do?" The man asked, anger seeping into his words. "I know he's an annoying little fucker, but I didn't think he was messing around that bad."

"No." Bruce replied, his fists clenched. "He's not in trouble. That's not it. At all."

"Then why do you want to see him?" The man asked coldly, a smirk on his lips.

"We wanted to talk to him." The man's face hardened.

"I don't care what he told you people. Me and my son are close- I think you should leave." The door was slammed before they could say a word. Clark glanced at Bruce, who was fighting hard to keep himself from breaking down the door.

"..."

* * *

Bruce was angrier then Clark had seen him before, and he couldn't help but wonder why they just didn't help this kid. Even if it would change the future, what would it change? He had never heard of a Wallace West. Another thing that was bothering him: how had Bruce known the last name? The one thing that the Man of Steel understood for sure was that Bruce was in no way in a mood to talk. Although Clark was angry, he was much calmer then Bruce, who was fuming, and practically pacing, had his leg allowed him.

"So what do we do?" Clark finally asked. Bruce turned to him.

"The guy's too drunk to recognize me." He replied casually. "I say we break in." Clark gawked as Batman walked calmly towards the side of the house.

"What?!" He hissed, running to his friend's side.

"You want to help the kid; we need a place." He replied gruffly, rolling his eyes. "The kid wanted us to come- he won't mind."

"And his dad?"

"I don't think he'll tell his father if he finds out his dad doesn't want us here." Bruce replied. "But he won't tell us to leave, either."

"Why?"

"Think about it, Clark." Bruce muttered. Clark grumbled to himself. "So- X-ray the house, find his room, and take us there." Clark did as he was instructed. The house's front story was basically just what they had seen- stairs, a small living room, and a kitchen in the back. He tried his best to ignore the three figures. One was heading towards a smaller figure, and Superman could only avert his eyes.

On the second story were three rooms- a bathroom, and two bedrooms. One was decorated in furnishings that one might find in a hotel room. The other was decorated with posters of Superman, and cartoons. A small mattress sat on the floor. It was _extremely _hard to figure out which one belonged to Wallace.

"Come on, then." Clark told Bruce, picking him up, finding the resentment radiating off of the Dark Knight pretty funny. Everyone needed help, and Bruce's abhorence of this fact could be amusing. He guided them to the small room. Within seconds, Bruce had lock-picked the window, and they entered. "Breaking and entering." Superman muttered to himself. Bruce smirked his usual half-smile, then situated himself in a dark corner.

"We may have to wait for a while." He stated. "You may want to sleep." Clark rolled his eyes, but sat on the bed, flinching at the sound the movement created. No one noticed however.

There were times when Kal-el truly hated some of his powers. Sure, he knew that in the long run he wouldn't be able to live happily without being able to soar, but sometimes he wished he could be normal. Like now. His enhanced hearing picked up on the soft whimpering, the tiny cries, and he could almost hear the helpless fear.

Batman had been correct in his assumption that it would be a while before the kid, Wallace, would return, and, in order to quell his boredom, Clark's eyes gazed about the room, resting on the posters of himself, and on the various games. The child didn't have much compared to what even he as a child had had, but he had had a happiness in him- an abounding energy, that apparently even an abusive father couldn't kill. If the situation was not so dire, and the child in so much suffering and pain, he would have smiled and wondered at the amazing feats humanity made when needed.

Two superman posters hung on the wall- one hand drawn and the other an official one. There were various cartoons drawn by Wallace hung, with his signature proudly written in the lower right corner. A few toys littered the room, and one or two games, but other then that, the room was bare. Clark leaned back on the covers, surprised at the comfort he received. He then recalled, guiltily, the pain that Bruce had to have been in, considering his day. He glanced down at his comrade, and used his X-ray vision to peak beneath the makeshift gauze they had wrapped around the wounded leg hastily. The muscle tissue was broken, and the bone was scratched, and even though these weren't too bad (especially considering what could have happened) empathy and guilt swelled in Clark's heart. His flesh had never been pierced by a bullet, and it was too often that he forgot that Batman was not invincible. Like this afternoon.

When Bruce had said he would get the others, Clark had not even tried to object. It didn't matter that he was outnumbered. He was Batman. Guilty thoughts ran through his head, until he heard a quiet voice whisper with an edge of fear,

"Watson...?" Superman turned to the doorway and saw Wallace. A cut was above his lip, and another one was above his eyebrow. Bruises were already beginning to form around his visible body, and his left arm was nursing his right.

"Wallace," He breathed, with a soft smile. "You're all right." The kid nodded, looking unsure. He then blushed, looking ashamed.

"You came." He stated. Clark nodded awkwardly. "You talked to Rudolph?" Somewhat surprised by the fact he had used his father's first name, Clark nodded. The kid glared at him. "He thought I'd told someone- I'd never tell. Never."

"Calm down, kid," Bruce was on his knees, hiding a flinch. He held Wallace's eyes. "We- we came to see you. We told your father that, and he-"

"He thought I told you- but I didn't, and I won't, and I haven't told anyone, just like he told me not to-" His body was shaking with fear, frustration, and pain.

"I know- I know." Bruce nodded, and, to Clark's utter surprise, allowed the child to shove his head into his chest, crying quietly. "I know."

"I'm sorry." The kid muttered, bringing his head out of Bruce's chest. "I didn't mean to."

"Mean to what?" Clark asked, baffled. Bruce's face echoed the sentiments of confusion. Wallace blushed.

"It's all right to cry." Bruce murmured. Wallace shook his head.

"Rudolph says-"

"I don't give a damn about what that son of a bitch says." Bruce replied coldly. Wallace flinched as though he had been physically struck. Although he was too young to hear those kinds of words, Clark was surprised by the jerky reaction.

"I do." He replied. "And he says that men don't cry- and I'm a big boy. You're the 'son of a bitch'." The child replied. Bruce stared, shock showing in his usually unreadable features. "And I'm going to tell him you're here- I'm gonna scream, and he'll come, and see you, and he'll-"

"You aren't going to do that," Bruce replied calmly. "I know you won't, because I may not know you well, but I know you're the kind of big boy who knows what his daddy does is wrong." Wallace's eyes dropped to the floor.

"Why are you here?" He finally asked. "You and Watson left today- why'd you come back?"

"We need a place to say." Bruce replied, not bothering to lie. "And while we're here- your dad isn't going to hurt you." He paused. "Or your mom." A look of curiosity passed over the young face. Clark could tell that he was growing out of his childhood chubbiness, and that he wasn't eating as much as he should have been. The look that shaded his face now almost showed the weariness the child experienced, although only the slight bags beneath his eyes were any proof.

"How?" He finally asked, averting his eyes again.

"We have our ways. Dear Watson and I are trained in this kind of thing." Bruce paused. "We'll help you." Desperation was etched in Wallace's face, and tiny glimmers of hope shined in his eyes. Then the dark shadow of doubt and fear blocked the hope out. The desperation remained.

"No. It's okay. You should go." He pointed weakly at the window. Bruce nodded and, once again surprising Clark, headed to the window. The kid looked shocked and fearful.

"Last chance." The two words brought the hope back, and the desperation to new levels. His lips moved slightly, and Clark smiled when he heard what the child had said. "What did you say?" Bruce had not turned around yet, waiting for the answer he knew was going to come.

"Please don't go." Wallace whispered. He stared at the man who stood black against the moonlit sky shining through the bedroom window, who slowly began to turn. Bruce walked before him, and bent.

"Sure thing."

* * *

Okay, this chapter didn't bring much new stuff, except that Bruce and Clark are now gonna hide out in Wally's room. Clark is confused why they don't just hang out in a public place that's crowded, but Bruce, as we know, has his reasons. I tried not to make him and Wally OOC, but I think I might've so sorry if I did. Review if you liked it, or if you want to see something in the next few chapters while they hang out with Wally and the gang. Supes&Bats VS Rudy followed by Supes&Bats VS Supes&Bats! YAY!

More Rudolph Rudeness in the next chapter! Stay tuned!


	7. Run For Your Life

Hi there, cyber-peoples! It's me again! YAY! The 24th is my birthday (14!!) so I decided to give you all a whole bunch'a'updates to celebrate. Isn't that super-duper? Including a few oneshots, a little story about the Bat's Birthday, and, as you can see, an update on Tick and Tock. I actually worked on this for more then a day (Which is how long my chappies usually take, ignoring the editing and the fretting about whether or not it's good enough I still put them on when they aren't ; ) - sorry... . I'd probably update a lot more often but a certain brother has the world wide web more then me... sorry about that. Buying an ethernet cable of my own!), so it will, hopefully, be longer then the recent chapters, and more like the length of Chapter 1 (not the prologue). So, with hope in my heart for a nice, long update... here you go!

(blows out candles)

Me: I wish peoples will send reviews! But NOT flames! I can't handle bad publicity!

My Agent, Artie: Not to worry! Remember- no such thing as bad publicity.

Me: I'd still prefer nice, kind reviews, though, if you'd be so kind, loyal readers.

_**Run For Your Life**_

Bruce opened his eyes, realizing with a soft, almost invisible, smile, that Wally, or Wallace, was sleeping soundly. He had fallen asleep in his lap the night before, the dim lighting of the moon making his wet face shine, even after he wiped his sleeve across his face and apologized. That was what had gotten Bruce the most- the soft voice, the trembling shoulders, and the two quiet words, 'I'm sorry'. There was no wonder or amazement in his mind that Clark had not figured out that this was his teammate- it wasn't Flash. This wasn't even _close_ to Flash. Bruce's small smile faded as the child stirred slightly, revealing a large bruise forming on his lower arm. He sighed quietly, and wished that he could have deposited the boy onto the mattress (which was now home to the Man of Steel, who looked so out-of-place on the tiny bed, so strange, that Bruce wouldn't have been surprised if he had started sucking his thumb), but his leg wasn't quite as fast as he wanted it to be in the 'healing zone', so he figured carrying the child's weight even two feet would've strained him. And Clark had fallen asleep quite early (It seems he stuck to the bedtime his 'Ma' had given him in Smallville), and, because he was heartless, Bruce didn't have the heart to wake him.

His eyes fell from the bed he had been gazing at back to Wally, wondering how he could possibly be the annoying teammate he grew to hate (and grudgingly become awed by during rare occasions). He always seemed careless- happy. Like an elf. He _did_ look like an elf now, being so short, with his red hair and freckles- _How did I get on the subject of Flash being an elf? _Bruce wondered, although he already knew the answer. Between the pain in his leg, and the future pain in his ass mumbling in his sleep and tossing and turning, he had hardly gotten any sleep. He had also been listening to make sure Rudolph (_More Christmas..., _Bruce observed) was not on his way to Wally's room. Of course, he had no idea what he would do if such a case came upon him, considering his leg, the kid who was sleeping on him, and Clark, but he always felt calmer when he knew what was happening. Luckily, around two, he heard a body drunkenly collapse onto the metal springs of a mattress in the next room. He had not awoken yet.

"...Bruce...?"

"Clark." Bruce replied in a whisper. He looked sharply up at the man of steel, and gave him a cold glare.

"...What?" Bruce gently nudged the sleeping Wally, who mumbled incoherently. Superman nodded in understanding, before softly walking over and picking him up. He gingerly placed him onto the bed, and then sat beside Bruce. "Sorry." He apologized. He didn't even bother hiding the smirk he wore. "So..." There was an awkward pause. "Ever figure out who he reminded you of?" Bruce's head shot up.

"What?"

"Back when we first met the kid... was it actually only yesterday...?" He asked, his voice trailing as his eyes turned distant, wondering the date. "Or was it the day before yesterday...?" He snapped out of his reverie at another of Bruce's glares, then continued. "You said he reminded you of someone. Did you ever figure out who?" Bruce leaned back, pausing.

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Just... just a friend of mine." Bruce said sparingly. He turned his gaze to the window. "Of course, the more time I spend with him, the less he reminds me of my... friend." Clark nodded slightly.

"I didn't expect this either. When we first met him?" He nodded at the sleeping child. "He didn't seem the type." Bruce nodded, but didn't respond. "I'm mad too, Bruce. But you're the one who-"

* * *

"I know, Clark." He didn't raise his voice- not even slightly. But his voice was deathly cold, with such a threatening edge to it that even Superman didn't risk continuing. Instead, he quickly turned his head, to avoid any chance that his darting eyes would mistakenly meet Bruces'. There was a long silence.

"I'm sorry." There was no reply, and Clark was sure he had said something wrong. He knew that this boy had had a hard life, well, was ha_ving_ a hard life, but it was the past. None of this was going on in the real present. Of course, their present was the future's past...

Clark hated Time Travel.

"I know, Clark." This time, the voice, though chilling as always, held a touch of forgiveness that one could only connect with the dark knight. No one else could barely change their tone, and yet mean exactly what they said and portray it accordingly. _Of course, only someone who had known him a long while would be able to understand the subtle tone differences. Otherwise, they all sounded scary, the same, mad, and...did I mention scary? _

"So, what do we do? We can't stay here forever," Clark said, stating the painfully obvious. Bruce nodded.

"Try to remember what you were doing."

"Huh?"

"The past is constantly changing." Bruce replied, sounding slightly annoyed. "For some reason I can remember the past just as it was when Tick and Tock sent us back." Clark paused, trying to remember an alternate version of the day before. Despite the fact that the previous day's date held no significance, he could tell that he could remember a past other then the one they were currently engaged in.

"Me, too. So what does that mean?"

"It means you have to try to remember." Bruce replied darkly. "You haven't gone to me yet. For some reason, the memories aren't being immediatly changed with each change we make- they are happening gradually. It has to have happened now, for us to remember. So... try to remember what you were doing today." Clark nodded, unsure, still hopelessly confused, and focused on his memories

-

_"Wow, Smallville, you sure do make bad timing."_

_"Sorry about that, Lois." She rolled her eyes playfully. _

_"It doesn't matter, really. There haven't been any sightings of this meta guy, and no one has been reported missing or anything."_

_"So who was the hostage?"_

_"I don't know." The reporter admitted. She walked away briskly in a huff. "But I'm sure as hell gonna find out."_

-

"Lois is doing the story on me." Clark announced. "And, knowing me, I'll follow her to keep her safe." Bruce smirked slightly.

"It's a good thing you're predictable." Clark rolled his eyes.

"So, now what? We know where I am. What about you?"

"I think I'm doing the same thing I was before." Bruce replied with a slight shrug. "Wayne business. Bat business." Clark nodded.

"...Sherlock? Watson?" Clark was getting annoyed with being called 'Watson'. He was almost going to casually mention his name was Clark, but Bruce was giving him a pointed look, as though he could read minds just like J'onn.

"Good morning, Wallace," He said cheerfully.

"Hi, Wallace," Came Bruce's voice. Clark was still unaccustomed to hearing it so... not mad.

"Hi..." The child mumbled sleepily, his mouth widening to amazing proportions as he yawned. He stood and stumbled out of the room, walking towards the bathroom. Bruce hurriedly shut the door, albeit quietly, then turned to Clark.

"We have to get out of here soon." Clark told him. Bruce nodded in agreement.

"If you're following Lois, there's a good chance you won't have time to look for us." Clark's eyebrow raised.

"She's a good reporter- Lois. If there's a scoop, she'll investigate, Bruce. She's probably better then the police."

"What are you saying?" Bruce snapped.

"I'm saying we can't just go off. She's chasing our tracks, and she knows both of us."

"So if she saw us..." Bruce sighed, and Clark realized slowly that the Dark Knight had probably been thinking about this all night. "So what do you think we should do?"

"Me?" Clark was earnestly surprised.

"I don't even know what the hell I'm doing." Batman grumbled, glaring at the wall, and feeling his unshaven chin. Clark felt sympathy pang him in the chest. Not only was Batman tired, but he was actually lost in what to do. "I mean- we can't change his past." That caught Clark by surprise.

"Who's?" Bruce glanced at him, his expression unreadable, even without the mask. His glare silenced Clark's repetition of the question. After a few tense seconds, he responded.

"The kids'. Wallace. The longer we stay here, the more risk we take that we'll change who he eventually becomes."

"Damn it, Bruce!" Clark was a patient man, and he wasn't as sharp as the billionaire playboy before him, but he wasn't dumb, and he wasn't just going to sit here while his supposed teammate withheld information that Clark knew he was hiding. The fact that he had cursed (_Sorry, ma,_) had caught Bruce's attention, and with this, Clark had all he needed to ask, and receive an answer to, his next question:"Who is this kid?! I know you know him- just tell me already!" Bruce paused, seemingly mulling it over. But logic might be against the Man of Steel, and in Batman's mind, Logic always won, so Clark had no choice but to keep him from thinking, so he continued in his rage, "Who?!"

"Quiet." Came a soft voice from the doorway. Wallace stood there, his hands still glistening from washing them, with bubbles of soap showing. He seemed to have discarded washing them at the raised voices. "Rudolph'll wake up." Bruce looked shocked, then, if such a thing were possible, he blushed.

"I'm sorry," He said. "We'll keep quiet." The boy nodded his approval, then walked to the mattress and sat.

"Why are you mad?" He asked, directing his question to Clark, who smiled sheepishly. Bruce was the one who answered.

"Grown-ups fight sometimes," He said. Wallace nodded.

"I know. Rudolph and Mommy fight." He said, with a matter-of-fact tone. "But why were you fighting?" Clark was surprised, and touched, by how caring the young boy seemed to be, even though he... even though he didn't have it so good.

"It wa-"

"Who did you want to know about?" His voice, though it had a tone of innocent curiosity, also sounded something like...hopeful? Yet afraid. Superman was confused, which was no new emotion, thanks to this mission.

"Who do you think it was?" Bruce asked quietly. The boy blushed, and Bruce sighed softly under his breath. "We weren't talking about your da- I mean, we weren't talking about Rudolph." Wallace's face fell- hard. Clark had to stop himself from cringing.

"Who then..?" He asked.

"You don't know him." Bruce murmured, something hidden in his words, though Clark didn't quite know what it was. The boy nodded.

"Oh." There was stirring from the room next to theirs.

"Aw, shit." Came a muffled voice. "Wallace!" Wallace rushed to the room. Superman listened from his position. "Hangover." He heard Wallace's father mutter. "Gemme a pill or something."

"Yessir," Came Wallace's voice. The soft patting of his feet in the hallway made his father shriek curse words. Batman... the cold, emotionless Dark Knight...the man with no empathy...flinched. They waited a few seconds, and then they heard the footsteps again. "Here you go," Clark heard Wallace murmur.

"Damn it- I need a glass of water! Fucking idiot! Do you want me to choke!?" Clark heard a soft whimper, followed by a loud slap. Bruce's hands were in tight fists.

"Sorry..." Wallace said quietly.

"Go get it!" His father demanded angrily. The young child scampered off again. The sound of running water touched Clark's ears, and then he heard Wallace rush back to the bedroom his father was in. "There you go. Maybe you'll be a doctor." Came the sarcastic and 'grateful' response.

"Um... where's mommy?" There was a pause.

"Store." Clark glanced at Bruce, who shook his head and shrugged.

"Oh. When'll she be back?" Wallace asked timidly.

"What?" The father shouted. "Am I her fucking babysitter now? Damn it, kid, go watch T.V or something."

"Yessir.." Came the quiet voice. Wallace soon arrived back to his room. "Rudolph is up." He stated simply. Bruce nodded. "Mommy is at the store." Bruce nodded again. "So... why are you guys here?" He finally asked.

"Do you want us to leave?" Bruce asked slowly. The young kid shook his head slowly.

"I mean- why are you here?" Clark had been wondering how Bruce had thought he would cover it that little thing up. His simple answer 'We needed a place to stay' wasn't going to last long.

"We...We just need somewhere to stay for the day. We'll leave tonight." Wallace held his eyes, and Clark glanced between the faces- but neither broke the gaze. There wasn't so much tension in the room... it was simply... well, Clark didn't know what it was.

"Okay." He finally said. "But don't let Rudolph see you..." Bruce nodded slowly.

"BOY!" Wallace scampered off to his father, leaving Bruce and Clark alone again. As Rudolph shouted insults and curses at the boy he was supposed to love more then anything, Clark turned to Bruce.

"Okay, then. I don't know who this kid is, or why you are so-" He cut off at the glare, then restarted in a softer, kinder tone. "Who is he, Bruce? I know you think he is important, but who is he?" Bruce seem truly torn, and, for a split second, Clark felt guilty for even inquiring. To his surprise, however, just as he was about to utter an apology, Bruce spoke.

"You deserve to know." He finally said, leaving Superman quite addled.

"Okay..." He said, ushering the man to continue.

"But I don't think I should be the one to tell you." The dark knight finally said.

"Will I really find out another way?" Clark asked as he raised an eyebrow. The prospect was doubtful. Batman smirked slightly.

"He really _is _good about who he is."

"Who..?" Clark asked quietly.

"He- he-" There are very rare moments when one can make the vigilante of Gotham stutter. This was, apparently, one of them.

"You can tell me." Clark said gently. Bruce rolled his eyes.

"I know I can talk, Clark, it's just that this is a secret- even in our present- the future-"

"Just tell-"

"What the fuck is this?!" Clark and Bruce turned in shock. Wallace wasn't beside his father, and fear grasped Clark's heart as a chill went up his spine. "What the hell are you bastards doing in my house?! This is breaking and entering!"

"We know." Bruce said simply, glaring at the man with such a rage that Clark had never seen before on his friend.

"Then what are you doing here?!" The man repeated gruffily.

"Do we look like we care about a law?" Bruce grumbled. The man glared.

"I have a gun." He warned.

"I have more." Bruce replied. He didn't even have to take one out to recieve the wanted effect. Even though it was only a tiny bit- the man backed down.

"Why are you here?!" He demanded.

"We wanted to talk to you."

"Talk is cheap!" The man argued, glaring with an amount of anger that matched Bruce's- but there was no control.

"True enough." Bruce replied, holding the man's eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"Where's Wallace?!" Clark interrupted. He didn't really care about this little confrontation. If they were changing the past, Bruce's 'friend' might disapear from the future, and get buried in the past. He brushed by Rudolph, who cursed under his breath.

"Don't touch my son!" He shouted.

* * *

"What a loving father you are." Bruce snarled sarcastically upon seeing Wallace. While he and Clark had been sharing an argument that could have easily been avoided with a glare, they had also broken their promise of keeping Wallace safe from his father. The child was in the corner, crying softly, cuts littering his body, bruises already becoming visible, sporting a healthy black eye, and a gash in his lip.

"Don't touch my son!" Rudolph repeated. Bruce spun around to face the man.

"Listen, you son of a bitch." He was eye level now, and he was getting closer and closer to Wallace's- Flash's- father. "Don't you dare tell my friend here what to do. Because he sure as hell is gonna help that kid- and if you try to stop him-" The man whimpered, cowering. Bruce glared at him. "You're one pathetic asshole." He whispered under his breath. "And that boy deserves so much better."

Clark was on his knees when Bruce turned around again, Wallace's father soaking in cowardice, and he was hugging him, carefully avoiding the visable pains. However, the child flinched a few times, and Bruce figured that some bruises were still forming. He was surprised that he didn't make a sound. And it hurt, too, because if he had made a sound when Rudolph was doing this to him, then they could have kept their promise, and Flash, this six-year-old boy, would still be okay, and he wouldn't be trying to hide his tears while the Man of Steel told him that everything was 'okay'.

_The problem is that nothing is okay. We have to leave Wally in this environment, or else the future won't be right, and the Flash won't exist. And even though he deserves happiness, this is what the fastest man alive has received. And I know no one can change history without there being ramifications. _

He heard slight movements behind him.

_But still..._

* * *

Clark held Wallace in his arms, feeling as the child trembled in his grasp. The guilt that dwelled within him overwhelmed him. If he hadn't been talking to Bruce, he may have heard the soft whimpers the child had made during the beating. He may have heard Rudolph's fist making contact with his young flesh. He may have had to change the future- but at least the past would be different.

The bigger picture was hard to see too often.

Clark was pissed and he knew that Bruce was the same.

But wasn't Batman the one preaching how one shouldn't change the past?

So, why did he get to be the one who punched Rudolph West in the face?

* * *

Lucky Bruce. Why didn't Superman get to do it? Then again, the punch would probably send him crashing through the wall...

I repeat, Why didn't Superman get to do it?

I'm kidding, of course. I love Rudolph. In a love-to-hate kinda way. I don't wanna kill him off- I'm probably going to use him in another story! Maybe...

Anways, that was the latest chapter of Tick and Tock! Amazing! And it's my birthday! Cheer, and dance, and sing, and drink cocktails and margaritas. We're gonna party!!

Yep.

Anyways, R&R!


	8. Misery

Hi again! With each chapter, less people read this... maybe I should take the hint : ) Oh, well... I'm not good with nuances, so here's chapter 8!

R&R

_**Misery**_

Wallace stared, his jaw low, his eyes alive with shock and confusion. Clark glanced between the faces of those in the room- Bruce seemed satisfied, Wallace seemed torn between overjoyed, and terrified, and Rudolph looked bloody. His nose was crushed, and he writhed in pain, while Clark watched in grim shock. He looked to Bruce, who looked back, with a small smirk Clark didn't know what to think of. What could be the ramifications of the fact that Bruce had just punched someone from the past? However, when Clark looked down again at the man, who was glaring at Bruce with unlimited fury, who had hurt his only son, and his wife in a drunken rage- he couldn't help but also be drawn in by the satisfaction of it all.

Clark couldn't find a voice, and even if the power had not eluded him, he doubted he would be able to find any words. One moment, he had been comforting an abused child, and the next, a man was on the ground, bleeding profusely, while the aforementioned child stared in awe. But Bruce, calm as always, grabbed Clark and took him outside into the hall. Wallace, still in shock, did not follow, or make a move.

"We have to get out of here." He said simply.

"And Wallace?" Clark challenged. "Do you really expect a single punch to stop Rudolph from-"

"I know." Bruce snapped. He sighed, then repeated, softer, "I know. But we have to go."

"Why?"

"Wallace's mother."

"What about her?!"

"What do you think she would do, Clark, if she saw two strange men in her house?"

"She'd be thankful that help had come!"

"She could have gotten help anytime," Bruce reminded him, his voice calm. "She doesn't want it. She wants him-"

"Wallace needs it! Wallace wants it!" He interrupted.

"That's true." He said simply, before beginning to descend the stairs. "We can only hope he gets it."

"We can't just leave it up to fate!" Superman shouted, chasing after his comrade. He flew to the bottom of the steps.

"We aren't."

"How else can we justify leaving Wallace when you told him you wouldn't let that man hurt him?!"

"The more we change the pa-"

"You punched that guy in the face!"

"See? I was wrong."

"You can't just say that!" Clark replied. He almost felt like the detective was teasing him.

--

"I can." Bruce had absolutely no idea what his action's consequences would be. All he knew was that they might have caused the Flash to stop existing. His leg hurt- a lot- and it took a lot to not let it show. He simply continued his glare. "Now, let's go." Clark took one last look down the hall, then nodded, a scowl on his face. Bruce nodded sharply, satisfied. He and Bruce walked to the door, and opened it, then left, leaving Wally to what they had left him to.

Clark trailed on Bruce's heels, not bothering to start conversation. His mind was clearly on the boy. After about an hour, Bruce suggested they stop for food. Superman didn't refuse, and they found themselves in a casual diner.

"So...Bruce. Do you want to tell me who that kid was?" Clark asked after ordering.

"Well. Not particularly."

"Will you?"

"You have as much a right as knowing as I do. I found out, but..." Clark looked confused and interested.

"Who was he?"

--

Bruce seemed torn, but he also looked as though he had made up his mind to tell Clark the truth.

"He- well, when we get back, you have to keep it a secret. Who he is." This puzzled Clark. A lot.

"What do you-"

"What I'm about to tell you is a secret in the future- in our present."

"Who is he?" There wasn't a single pause this time. He had made up his mind.

"He's Flash."

Clark had many questions. He was not able to voice any, for, at that exact moment, he heard a voice, far away, saying,

_"I traced them here."_ And it sounded extremely familiar. The problem being that the owner of said voice was sitting in front of him, looking completely nonchalant, or at least trying to seem nonchalant.

_"Let's get them, then." _Another recognizable voice.

"Hey, Bruce?" Bruce glanced up, obviously expecting a question about Flash. "We've got a problem. You might want to duck."

The window was crashed seconds after the Dark Knight and the Man of Steel ducked their heads. Because the Dark Knight and the Man of Steel had crashed through it. And they looked mad.

--

OnlyANorthernSong's-super-short-chapter!


	9. Tell Me What You See

Yay! Supes&Bats VS Supes&Bats... finally! Tell me how the fight scene goes. I don't own Justice League!! I do own Tick and Tock! Yay!

Caution: Short Chapter

_**Tell Me What You See**_

The glass shattered, and the occupants of the diner sped out. Bruce lifted his head, and saw his younger self. _This is physically impossible. Paradoxes..._

_Time Travel sucks._

"You'd better explain yourself," Batman stated coldly. Bruce glanced towards where Clark was, gathering himself quickly from the rubble. He looked back at his counterpart and smirked.

"I don't think I really can, without causing some sort of impossible situation. Which is already happening, but I don't really want to push my luck."

"Fine... we'll do it the hard way," Batman growled. Bruce snorted.

"I've got at least ten years on you." Batman swung his fist, and Bruce easily dodged it. Another punch, and Bruce grabbed his arm, and flipped him over. His younger self crashed into a heap of rubble, then stood, glaring. "If you want, you can give up now, so I can do something important. Then I'll be gone." Batman was ignoring him now, though, and was sizing him. He had obviously underestimated him. "I know all your tricks," Bruce said with a sigh, knowing that that sounded too much like a threat, but he was too tired to care. He had had hardly any sleep the night before, his leg was killing him, and he didn't really want to fight himself. Batman suddenly leaped, catching Bruce by surprise, and pinning him in the shattered glass that cut through Bruce's clothes easily. Bruce held in a cringe, then flipped over, pinning Batman underneath his weight.

He had more muscle, and experience, but Batman had his suit and gadgets. He elbowed Bruce, then shot a grapple at the ceiling. He swung up, in the process kicking Bruce sharply in the face. Bruce shook the hit off, but was suddenly attacked again as Batman fell from the ceiling, punching him on the way down. He fell into the rubble, and pushing himself, biting his lip to stop from concentrating on the pain on his leg and chest, where Batman had punched him.

"Ready to talk?"

"The longer we're together, the more impossible this is," Bruce told him, defending against another barrage of punches. He watched as an exploding battarrang was thrown into the wall behind him, making it collapse onto him, rendering him defeated. _I don't like this. _

* * *

Clark pushed himself up from the rubble. Batman and Bruce spoke for a moment before fighting, but he and Superman ignored any type of formalities. Superman punched him first, sending him sailing through the window and onto someone's car. The alarm sounded immediately, and the owner, a tall, scrawny blond, ran out, gasped shortly, then ran away. Clark pushed himself up from the scrap metal, glaring at his younger self.

"What happened to questions first, action later?" He demanded. He had never been this rash in taking care of villains. Of course, he had never fought a clone of himself, who was said to be capturing hostages. Well, okay, he supposed that since he was in the past, he had at this point, but...oh, well. It was too confusing. Time Travel sucks.

"I figure this can be an exception," Superman replied, hovering above him with a cold look in his eyes. "Now, where did you come from?" Clark glared at him.

"Sorry, but you skipped the questions part, remember?" Within seconds, he had punched Superman, who went crashing into the street. Cars swerved to avoid the large gash in the street, while Superman shook off the punch, and came flying back for more.

Superman slammed a fist at Clark, who leaped to dodge, but was unable to fully get out of the way. He crashed into a dilapidated building, which began to crumble, unused to any sort of pressure. Civilians in the street pointed, screamed, or ran, sometimes all at once, as Clark and his younger version fought. He pushed himself from the piles of bricks, only to be knocked down again by a powerful punch. He brushed a hand against his lip, and was surprised to see crimson on his fingertip. Fury burning wildly now, he leaped into the air and threw a rib-cracking punch into Superman's stomach. The hero flew backwards, a shocked expression on his similar face, and slammed into a wall. He groaned quietly from the rubble. Clark spit onto the ground, and, seeing red, glared at his counterpart. He was surprised that said younger version did not instantly regain his composure.

When Superman did, finally, gather himself from the bricks, broken glass, and other debris he was surrounded by, he was unsteady on his feet, and he looked as though he could barely stand. Clark took pity on himself, and threw one last punch onto his head, and watched as the Man of Steel crumpled beneath it, and collapsed. Clark suddenly felt a pang of pain in himself, as though some past injury was giving him trouble. He sighed under his breath, once again cursing time travel, then went to see how Bruce was faring against Batman.

* * *

Bruce's vision was darkening, and Batman approached him.

"Who are you?"

"Why would I tell you now, if I didn't before?" Bruce countered.

"Because, now, you're helpless, and I'm not." Batman replied, motioning to his belt.

"You don't kill."

"Try me." Before Bruce could respond with a smirk, a snarl, or a biting comment, he heard Clark say,

"I think you should step out of the way." Batman spun, anger written clearly on his face.

"Where's Superman!?"

"Over by that collapsed building," Clark replied nonchalantly. Batman glared at him.

"I think you should give up. Now."

"I think you should step out of the way." Clark repeated. Bruce watched from beneath the rubble, raspy breaths escaping him, his eyes darting from his younger self to Clark. Batman's hand was slowly moving down to his belt...

"Superman!" He breathed out. It was barely a whisper, and he had never before been so grateful that the Man of Steel had super-hearing. "Belt...Kryptonite." Clark understood immediately, and lashed out to catch the arm before it subtlety reached the compartment where Batman held a small piece of Kryptonite. Batman glared, and Clark gently knocked him out.

"You've carried Kryptonite this long? I thought you just got it after that whole deal with Ivo," He said, extending a hand.

"Actually," Bruce replied, awkwardly holding his side, and trying not to wince as he stepped onto the leg that had been shot, all the while ignoring the hand the Boy Scout had offered. "I began carrying it as soon as I met you."

"Thanks," Clark muttered sarcastically. He turned, his eyes tracing the damage he and Superman had caused. "Now what?"

"We do what we were planning on doing before the duo caught up with us, and we manage our steps more carefully." Bruce replied. "Being me, he won't rest until he catches us and figures out what the hell is going on." Clark nodded, his eyes falling onto Batman.

"Do we know where James and Lily's parents liv-" He paused. "That was Flash?" Bruce smirked slightly.

"Just remembered that, did we?" Clark's face looked slightly haunted as he nodded.

"Did we stop him from being the Flash?" His voice sounded strained, as though he had other questions to ask, but was holding back. Bruce shrugged slightly.

"I guess we'll find out soon enough." Clark nodded uneasily, then coughed into his hand.

"So. James and Lily's parents?"

"Yes. Let's go." There was a long silence as they trudged along the street.

"So..where do they live?"

"James and Lily's parents, Tim and Lindsey, lived in East Central. They didn't want kids, but were strict Catholics who were pro-life. Instead of getting an abortion, they spoke to a doctor who needed test subjects. Tim was a government official, high on the political ladder behind the scenes, and he had connections that he could use so that he was still faithful to his religion, but he didn't have to take care of the two twins his wife was harboring."

"So he gave them to science!?" Clark asked incredulously. Bruce shrugged.

"It's what he defined as 'right'. The doctor who tested on James and Lily, and turned them into Tick and Tock, had an office in East Central, which is most likely the one they attended. As far as I can tell, they went here for check-ups on the babies, so that the doctor, Doctor Brown, could know how the twins were doing. Since we don't know where they live exactly-"

"-our best bet is to wait around in Brown's office? We don't have that kind of time."

"But we can get in and get the files on them." Bruce replied irritably, annoyed at being interrupted. Clark blushed.

"Oh, yea,"

"And then we can find Tim and Lindsey."

"But James and Lily haven't been born yet."

"I've been thinking."

"And?"

"What if they just wanted us to talk to their parents, as strangers, and make them choose to keep them, or give them to an orphanage? It would make more sense then, you know, killing babies," Clark nodded, looking excited.

"So, we just convince the parents to keep the kids, and Tick and Tock never exist!"

"I think I just said that." Muttered Bruce, but Clark was too happy to hear him.

"And then we get sent back to the present!" He paused. "Will we remember what happened, since it never existed?"

"I don't know how time travel works," Bruce replied angrily, rolling his eyes behind his mask. Clark shrugged.

"Just asking."

* * *

Yep. That was short, too. What's up with me lately? Can't make a decent long chapter. Sorry about that. Review! Please??

Very obvious hint about next chapter: When have you known Batman to _not _put trackers on people for kicks and giggles?


	10. Doctor Robert

I do not own Pet Rocks, Beanie Babies, or Webkinz. Oh- and I don't own Justice League either...

Superb!

Magnificent!

Brilliant!

None of the aforementioned critiques have been made. I am weeping.

_**Doctor Robert**_

Superman felt a hand pulling him up. He wiped his hand across his lip, and looked aghast as he saw crimson. He turned, anger flaring, to Batman.

"Who in the heck were those guys!?" He demanded. Batman looked deadly serious.

"I don't know. Us, except I seemed to be older then I am now." He shrugged, then picked up a small device. "However, we'll get them soon. According to this, they're making their way towards East Central."

"Then let's go!" Superman grumbled, hazel eyes still dangerously red. Batman glanced at the damage, and nodded.

"Follow me."

---

The building was five stories high, and painted a bright and obnoxious white that almost hurt Clark's eyes as he made his way forward, his mind scurrying over everything that was going on. Bruce, beside him, was stoic, and trying to hide the obvious fact that he was in pain and limping. Several times, Clark tried to assist him, but the stubborn man and his ego refused such help. The building they approached had a large sign, which proclaimed proudly,

_**Dr. Robert Brown, MD**_

"I guess this is him," Clark murmured to himself, walking toward the glass doors. Bruce replied in a curt nod, before he glanced over his shoulder. "Something wrong?" Clark asked. Bruce paused, before replying,

"I was just wondering when you and I would be coming."

"You think they'll find us?" Clark asked incredulously. The last time he had seen his younger self, he had been bleeding, and barely conscious. He had highly doubted the man would be tracking them, powerful Man of Steel, or not.

"Of course," Bruce replied. "It's just a matter of how long it will take." Acting as though this wasn't horribly distressing news, the billionaire nonchalantly pushed open the door, and ushered Clark in. A young, mousy woman with short-cut brown hair was behind a desk. She glanced up, red glasses framing light brown eyes and long lashes.

"Um, hi-, I mean, um, good afternoon, and welcome to Doctor Robert Brown's office. Do you have an appointment?" Clark glanced at Bruce, who had his 'Bruce Wayne' face on, with a charming grin and twinkling eyes. He inquired,

"So, the good doctor is in, is he?" She smiled, blushing slightly, and nodded. Even though Bruce Wayne was no longer twenty, he was still a handsome man, apparently.

"Um, yes, sir,"

"Come on, do I look like a 'sir'?" Bruce asked with a casual smile, as he leaned on her counter so she could see his face up close. There was no evidence of the fight earlier, or the pain in his leg, on his charming face. "Call me Bruce." She giggled.

"Okay, Bruce," She said, eyes bright, a broad grin on her face.

"And what can I call you?" Bruce asked, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly. The blush deepened, and the smile widened.

"Is that Bruce Wayne in _my _office?" Bruce and Clark spun quickly, to face a man with oily hair and a rather large beard. He had a smile on his face, and it curled and twisted on his face like a snake. He had small glasses that gleamed under the bright fluorescent lights, and the beady eyes beneath them were a cold blue. "What a pleasure. May I ask, though, what you require?" Bruce's smile even _looked _forced this time. The man held out a hand, which Bruce shook warily. "Dr. Robert Brown," The man said with what he must have perceived as a charming and disarming smile. "Everyone calls me Dr. Robert, though. Like the song." He smirked again.

"You know me," Bruce replied carefully. "And this is Mike Jason- an associate of mine."

"Any associate of Bruce Wayne's is a friend of mine," Said Dr. Brown with a smile that reminded Clark of a shark. He held out a hand for the reporter to take, which he shook, feeling uncomfortable. He forced a smile to his face.

"Nice to meet you," He lied. Dr. Robert's smile widened.

"As for you. May I ask what you gentlemen need?" Clark hesitated, and Bruce quickly picked up the slack.

"Well, I thought I might be interested in what you are doing, Dr. Brown," Curiosity shone in Dr. Robert's eyes, and he did not complain about the fact that Bruce did not call him Dr. Robert.

"Oh? In what way?"

"Well, as you know, Wayne Co. can fund many different areas of business. And, when I am interested in something, I will most certainly give donations." Dr. Robert perked.

"Well, I'm never one to impose, but we do need new equipment and a grant from one of the most successful businesses in America would certainly be appreciated." Clark hid a smirk. The man was hardly being subtle in his brown-nosing.

"It would be no imposition," Bruce replied, his voice sounding slightly strained. "I would love to discuss it in detail with you?"

"Of course...I have an appointment soon, but I am free now. I always have time for a man of your class and standards! What say we talk now?" Bruce nodded cheerfully.

"Mr. Jason?" Clark turned. There was something Bruce was trying to tell him, but he was no J'onn, and he didn't know what. "Please come," Bruce turned to Dr. Robert. "Mr. Jason is one of my most privileged friends- without him, I could hardly organize a grant donation," Dr. Robert's eyes turned sharp as he turned to Clark again.

"Is that so? Well, would either of you like a coffee? It's rather cold outside," Clark smirked at Bruce, who maintained the broad smile he had plastered on his face. Although Clark knew Bruce, and knew that the smile he wore was fake, it was still odd to see him wear it.

"That'd be great, Dr. Brown; thanks," Bruce said brightly. Dr. Robert smiled politely, then told the mousy girl behind the counter, who now looked abashed at having spoken without formality when she was supposed to simply greet and make appointments, to grab two coffees. She nodded hastily, and leaped from her chair to do the chore.

"Now, come into my office- Samantha will bring the coffees to us," He led them to a room, and, when they were seated and holding warm mugs of coffee in their hands, he said, "Now, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Jason, what can I do for you? It's not often one would come in and offer me grants!" His grin sent a shiver down Clark's spine. Bruce, however, kept a demeanor of warmth and ignorance.

"Well, I'm not a regular type of man, Dr. Brown- I pride myself on being different." He paused, then continued, "Now, in Gotham, I give only to the best and brightest, and I can only assume that is what I am doing here in Central?" Clark got the sense that Bruce was trying to tell him to do something. He listened carefully, as Dr. Robert nodded vigorously.

"Of course,"

"Good. Now I like to see things, difficult as it may be. I know that many places hide secrets behind an organizational front." Clark racked his mind, as he saw Bruce's eyes flicker to the right briefly. Dr. Robert didn't notice.

"Of course. I've heard there are some shady businesses in Gotham, and you're right to be wary." As he said this, Clark's eyes drifted to the right of the office, scanning it's occupants. A bookshelf, a filing cabinet, and a plant. He thought back to what Bruce had said (_An Organizational Front_), and he looked at the filing cabinet. Knowing that Bruce had meant for him to look inside, as he had said hidden secrets hid behind a front of organization, he used his X-ray vision, then looked at each page in succession, before finding John and Lindsey. Information sat on the pages, including a stamp that stated CLASSIFIED within the box asking for information as to why they attended the office. The address, however, leaped from above the box, and Clark quickly memorized it. He caught Bruce's eyes, and nodded slightly. Bruce understood quickly. His eyes found the clock.

"It's already that late!?" He exclaimed. He stood, and a flustered Dr. Robert did as well. Bruce held out his hand for him to shake, which he clasped. "I've got a meeting to get to soon- and, if I'm not mistaken, you said you had an appointment to get to, Dr. Brown. I won't hold you any longer- we'll be in touch." Without giving the Doctor another word, he stepped towards the door.

"Er- all right, Mr. Wayne- have a nice day," Dr. Robert's eyes shifted to Clark. "You too, Mr. Jason." Clark nodded, then followed Bruce.

--

The brisk air stung Bruce's cheeks, and the grin dripped away. The contempt and strong dislike of the man could be seen on his face, until he let it fall away as well. When his face had gone into unreadable indifference, he turned to Clark.

"And?"

"92494 Penny Lane," Clark replied, looking slightly surprised at the cold that intercepted him as he stepped outside.

"Good. Let's go, and get back home." There was slight hope in his voice that he hoped the boy scout hadn't detected; luckily, Clark still seemed shocked at the chills he had received. He smirked. "Cold?"

"Yea, I- Look out!" Bruce snapped around, and a strong kick pounded him in the face. He collapsed, and coughed up some blood. When he looked up, he saw someone he really didn't want to deal with right now.

"It was too much to hope for to just get out of here," He muttered. Batman smirked.

"Well, you didn't really think you could get away that easily, did you?"

"Not really," Bruce replied, shakily standing, and trying to ignore the pain shooting up his leg.

"Do you want to talk yet?" His younger self demanded.

"Do you want the entire universe to collapse on itself?"

"Is that a threat?" The cold voice challenged.

"No, it's a query," Bruce replied, smirking through his pain. Batman growled, which caused the smirk to grow. No wonder Flash loved to annoy him- he was really fun to annoy! Well, not fun, but it was _kind of _amusing.

"You better talk now. If you're clones, who made you? If you're not, who are you!?"

"I'm not a clone, and you know who I am, so there you go," Bruce replied with a shrug, ignoring the pain he received. He had gotten quite a beating earlier, and he hadn't recovered fully- as one could expect when a wall collapses on you, Batman or not.

"You're Bruce Wayne, are you?" The voice asked shrewdly.

"Prove it if I'm not," Bruce replied with a smile.

--

Clark stared in shock as Batman kicked Bruce Wayne square in the face, and moved to help him, before he was thrown powerfully into a building, which collapsed around him. His eyes opened slightly, only to see a fist, and then red. He shook off the pain as his vision returned, and he stumbled to his feet. Superman was coming towards him again, his fists raised. He blocked the next hit, and a few windows shattered.

"You want a rematch, eh?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"No- I want to know who you are, and what you want!"

"Try a new question- that one is getting pretty old!" They had been locked in hands, pushing against each other, but now, Clark squirmed out of his counterpart's grasp, then swung his fist back and forward, resulting in a loud crunch as he felt his fist collide with Superman's nose. He felt his own nose become slightly crooked, and he seethed- how could he fight when any injury he made would happen to him!? Superman stumbled back, grasping his broken nose in pain and shock. Clark ignored him, then flew to Batman. Bruce was on his feet now, a good sign, but he was also wobbling. Without bothering questioning him, or telling him he was coming, Clark wrapped his arms around his waist, and flew away. Bruce struggled in his grasp, though he was still weak, until he noticed it was Clark.

"You couldn't have asked?" He grumbled, sounding annoyed.

"What would you have said?" Clark retaliated. Bruce didn't reply, but pouted, as though being saved was something to be ashamed of.

"92494 Penny Lane, then?" He finally muttered. Clark nodded.

"Yea." He paused, then ventured, "Do we know where that is?"

"We passed it earlier, I remember."

"Where?"

"Turn right here, and keep going straight until I say something." There was a long pause until he told Clark to turn again. After ten minutes of flying, Clark asked,

"What are we going to tell them?" Instead of replying, Bruce said,

"Turn left." Clark saw a sign state,

_**Penny Ln. **_

They passed by house after house, until finally reaching 92494. Bruce stared at it for a while after Clark landed, then nodded briskly.

"I don't know what we'll say, but we'd better figure it out fast. Come on." He marched to the doorstep, and knocked.

---

Batman glared after the two men.

"I'm getting annoyed," Superman said, blood trickling below his nose. Batman nodded.

"Me, too. We'll get them." He glanced down at his device, and after a moment said, "I know where they are."

---

God. It's been, like, ten chapters and they're FINALLY at the house. Took them long enough... Please tell me what you think of it so far! Sorry for the short chap, but seriously, I don't throw a lot of long ones out, so...you know...there you go.

- Thanks, d, for the 'the' thing. Sorry about that! =)


	11. Hello, Goodbye

Not much longer now! I'll have the next chapter up....TONIGHT!

_**Hello, Goodbye**_

A man with slicked black hair answered the door. His kindly smile faltered as his eyes found Bruce's multiple wounds, and strong glare. His light brown eyes found Bruce's cool blue, and he managed a small faux smile, saying,

"Hello, gentlemen- can I help you?" His voice sounded slightly scared, and Bruce wondered how he looked, bleeding and glaring, on the front porch. He smirked.

"Yea. I think you can." He brushed by the man, not bothering to ask whether he was allowed in. "Is your wife around?" He asked, his eyes swallowing the room whole. The man eyed him warily, still standing by the doorway, his hand frozen on the door.

"Lindsey?" The man echoed, looking confused. "Why?"

"We need to talk to both of you." Bruce replied, turning and making a curt nod, telling Clark, who stood awkwardly outside, to come in.

"I don't know why you think you can come into my home, and-"

"Where. Is. She." The man, looking annoyed and angry, growled,

"I will call the police, Mr....?"

"Wayne." Bruce replied, eyes frozen on the man, John, who was planning on abandoning his children directly after they were born. His anger was bubbling just below the surface, and it was all he could do to not punch the man square in the jaw, making him fall in pain as Flash's father had done. "Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce Wayne?" The man asked slowly. "I've heard of you! You're in the news!"

"That does come with the territory of being famous," Bruce replied snidely. Clark walked in, as though sensing that he might be needed in tearing the billionaire off of John. "Now- Your wife."

"She can't talk to you right now," The man replied. He no longer seemed nervous about the two strange men in his house- as though Bruce's being rich made him a kind, respectful man. Bruce gritted his teeth. He already hated this man for what he was planning on doing to his two children- he didn't need to think about his lack of sense, or simple dishonesty.

"Why not?" Bruce demanded.

"She's not feeling at all well." The man replied sparingly. Bruce smirked coldly.

"Pregnancy can do that to a lady."

"H-how did you know that?!" The man stammered nervously, looking shocked. Bruce had known that the couple had hidden the fact his wife was pregnant, since it would be gossip material when they had no children. It seemed the guy was really shook up by the fact Bruce knew. Bruce glared at him, while Clark watched in confusion.

"It doesn't matter, does it? I just want to know where she is." A look of resolve painted itself over the man's face.

"I don't know how you know that, but-"

"Listen. We know about the pregnancy, and we know about the plans." The man suddenly glared at him.

"It's none of your concern." He said sharply. "My wife and I understand what we are doing. It's better then all the lies, an-"

"That fact that you're giving your baby to illegal labs where they will be experimented on until they die- or worse- is none of my concern?"

"What are you saying? That you'll adopt them?" The man scoffed. "Besides, I'd rather help this Earth, then condemn it to another set of irresponsible billionaire heirs!" Bruce growled, his eyes narrowing.

"Listen, you slimy bastard: putting those children through hell won't get you into heaven!"

"I am respecting my religious beliefs, Mr. Wayne. And I suggest you allow me my right as an American citizen. Now: GET OUT."

"Not on your life." Bruce replied. "Not until you promise me that those children won't be placed into that godforsaken laboratory with that damned Dr. Robert!" His lips curled into a thin smirk, though he was not in the least amused. "And believe me," He promised. "I'll know if you give them to him."

"How dare you think you can rule over what I choose to do with my children!" The man snarled.

"Where is your wife?!" Bruce demanded.

"You will never see her! Those children are ours, and we choose what happens to them!"

"You don't deserve children! You deserve to be in an insane asylum!"

"I'm calling the police!" He stormed towards a small table, and grasped the telephone.

"Fine! Go ahead! Tell them about the experiments. About Dr. Robert. About the unborn twins you're drafting into a life of torture!" The man froze, his hand on the phone. Bruce bit his lip nervously. If the man chose to call the police, he and Clark couldn't stay around. If they did, the police would find some real problematic evidence. And then, Batman and Superman would know where they were, and they would be here within seconds, ready to kill. The man looked up slowly, fury burning in his eyes.

"What is it that you want, Mr. Wayne?"

"Just to talk to you and your wife." Bruce replied calmly, holding the man's eyes. The man placed the phone down shakily.

"Lindsey!" He called. "Someone to see you!"

"What?" A confused and hesitant voice called back from upstairs.

"Someone to see you," John repeated, his voice cracking, his eyes weary.

"But-"

"I know. But they already know, Lindsey- just- come down here." After a short pause, Bruce heard footsteps, and then saw the woman who had to be Lindsey. She had long black hair that was curled into a bun at the back of her head, and cheeks that were much too red. A large bulge sat on her stomach, and she held it gingerly, looking nervous as she made her way downstairs. A small burgundy sweater-jacket was worn, though it was left open, showing her entire pale gray dress, that had sunflowers on the hem. Her face, other then the heavily-admonished blush, was make-up free, and small wrinkles hung beneath her eyes, and curled around her lips. Small, white, earrings hung from her ears, and they swung slightly as she looked off the staircase and onto the men in her living room.

"Good lord!" She shouted when she had caught sight of Clark and Bruce. "What happened to you? Are you alright? Sit down; sit down! Jonathon- get them something to drink!"

"This isn't a bar, Lindsey." John replied sharply. "Just- sit down, Lindsey. These men want to talk to you."

"But- look at them!" She insisted, eying the blood in shock. "What in heaven's name happened?"

"Lindsey!" John muttered sharply. "It doesn't matter. They-"

"Doesn't matter?!" She repeated, eyes alight with anger.

"They know about what we are planning to do when the children are born." John said, before she could begin an argument. She wrinkled her brow, then turned to Bruce and Clark.

"How?"

----

Bruce seemed somewhat unsure of what to say, so Clark thought of how he could explain. Then he decided to ignore any type of explanation.

"Why?" He asked quietly. "You won't get an abortion- so, why kill them then?"

"Not kill!" She replied huffily. "It's for the good of mankind. Science leaps, and all. Scientists are fishing about for silly things like evolution- God did it. They ignore the important things they should be doing. Medicine-"

"What about stem cell research?!" Superman demanded, annoyed. "With that, people who have been paralyzed could move again with practice, and studying! Why do you feel you have to do experiments on them after they are _born_? When they're toddlers? Why should they have to have needles and cages, when other kids have hugs and kisses!?" She glared at him, no longer the welcoming house hostess.

"I seem to recall another person who sacrificed himself for the good of mankind." She hissed. "Jesus Christ! Jesus of Nazareth! Jesus, the son of our Lord!" Clark looked at Bruce, confused.

"Okaaaay. So what does that have to do with this? I'm religious- but I don't kill babies." (1) Clark told her.

"By killing them, I'll be saving-"

"Shut up." Bruce commanded, seemingly deciding that this was as good a time as any other to make his opinion known. "Your kids will kill people." She gaped.

"How dare you-"

"We're from the future." Bruce replied, his voice quiet. "In fact, any moment now, a man in a black suit, and a man in a suit that is red, blue, and yellow will burst into this house."

"That's absurd." John snapped. "And you say I belong in an insane asylum. Too much booze for the billionaire playbo-" Just then, the wall crashed down, an angry-looking Superman floating heroically in the breeze. Batman stood behind him, glaring. Superman's eyes locked onto Clark's, and Clark could just barely hear Bruce mutter,

"I've never been happier because a homicidal Superman showed up." Then, louder, Bruce said, "Superman- Batman- can I just say one more thing?" Superman eyed him suspiciously, but managed a nod. Bruce turned to John and Lindsey, who were cowering beside a pile of rubble, Lindsey clutching her stomach frantically. "Do you believe me now?" They didn't respond. "Keep the kids." He warned. "Or give them to an orphanage. But whatever you do, don't give them to that son of a bitch Robert Brown." They nodded shakily. Bruce, smirking, turned to Superman and Batman.

"So- who are you?" Batman asked slowly, as if sensing that Bruce was willing to give the answer. Clark watched Bruce slowly, his eyes widening in surprise as he could almost see Bruce shimmering, or flickering.

"I think you've figured it out." Bruce replied. Batman, smirking now, replied,

"See you later." Superman and Clark glanced at each other, looking confused. In unison, Batman and Bruce muttered,

"I'll explain later."

And then everything went black.

----

Okay. Only, like, one chapter left. Everybody cheer.

(1) Death to Baby Killers! Anyone know what show that is from? I just saw it after my brother went on, and on, and on, and on, and on about it. It's pretty cool so far, but I've got a few seasons to go before I'm caught up. I'll give a hint: A new episode is on every Thursday on Fox.

Btw, that whole Superman talking about stem cell research is, duh, props to the late Christopher Reeve, who played Superman in Superman I, II, and III. He was also in Somewhere In Time. If you were wondering, I mean.

Btw (again) the next chapter isn't going to be so...blah... or whatever. It's going to be less...yea. Idk what it is about the past...9...chapters, but the next chapter, hopefully, will be a little lighter, a little longer, and it'll either be the last chap, or the second to last. Finally.


	12. The End ie The Long And Winding Road

Ladies and Gentleman: the last chapter...

I know, I know...you're all crying on the inside.

-----

_**The End i.e The Long And Winding Road**_

Superman opened his eyes with a low groan.

"Where are we?" He mumbled, standing up. Batman stood shakily to his right, looking pale and unnerved. He was still wearing the suit Clark had stolen from the shop, except it looked older, and dustier. His hair was unkempt, and he looked extremely tired.

"Metropolis, I think," Bruce replied, rubbing a hand through his dark hair.

"I'd make a reference to the Wizard of Oz, but I wanna make sure we're back in Kansas first," Clark stated with a weary smile, as he walked over to a newspaper stand on the corner of the road. The date was correct. He grinned and turned to Bruce. "I had the wildest dream..." He told him. "And you were there-" Bruce smirked, then sighed, leaning against a wall.

"I'm not gonna kill you for making that stupid joke the second we got back." Clark raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm too damn tired." Bruce replied, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall.

"So, it wasn't because it was so funny?" Clark ventured. Bruce cracked open an eye.

"That might have been stupid enough to kill over." Clark chuckled, then walked over.

"Come on. We'd better get you to the station to get you all patched up and-" His face suddenly went pale. "Flash!" The urgency was contagious, and a flash of fear (A/N no pun intended...well okay, a tiny bit...Flash, Flash- get it? Ha!) rushed over Bruce's face.

"Let's go!"

-------------

Wally smiled happily, thinking of the memory that kept him going when things got rough like this. When he was a kid, his dad had gotten one good punch in the head, and had stayed down. Wally had been so confused and happy, he had just stared. His father was mortal. And like everyone he fought, he could go down.

And there was nothing that inspired him more. He doubted he would be able to fight if he hadn't seen that random guy pound into him. If that man, who had ruined his life, who had been impossible to stop, could go down, why the hell couldn't anyone else? He smiled to himself again, then went to fight the thug.

He was just another guy, just like his dad. And just like everyone else on the planet, this guy could go down. And since he never got the chance to knock his pop down, why the hell not beat this guy up and save some folks?

There was nothing that inspired him more.

"Stealing from little old ladies?" He asked, taking the purse from the man's grubby hands with ease. "Kinda cliche." The man stared in shock and fear.

"Flash!?"

"Why are people always so surprised? Seriously. It's like they're expecting me to be on vacation!" The man began to run away, and Flash ran in front of him. "Okay. Does the title 'Fastest Man Alive' mean anything to you? Honestly! What am I, chopped liver? I won that title off of Superman, you know. Quite proud of it." He then knocked the guy out, got the purse to the little old lady, (who dug some hard candy out from it, and, despite his protests that there was hair and lint on it, stuffed it in his mouth saying, 'You're a good boy!') then got the guy to jail.

"Whoo, man, Murphy! I'm so tired! Mind sparing some coffee?" The policemen smiled as he took the crook (now conscious), who was grumbling and rubbing his jaw, sending dirty looks at Wally.

"No problem, Flash. Help yourself to some doughnuts, too. I know you like them, and no one here wants them."

"If you're sure," Flash replied, his mouth already full. After the baddie was signed in, Flash headed to where he and John were supposed to meet so Flash could get a ride to monitoring duty. When the Green Lantern arrived, he flew them to the station. As Flash arrived aboard, he saw Superman and Batman arriving via javelin. As they entered, he shouted,

"Yo! Bats, Supes! Where've you been? You missed out! You know how I was talking about those hot chicks that robbed a bank? Well, guess what!? And Bats, don't call it bribing, because-" Superman suddenly encased him in a Man-of-Steel brand hug. Flash looked uneasily at John, who was snickering. "Um...Supes?"

"Oh, Flash! I was so worried!" Flash looked at the Green Lantern questioningly, and when he shrugged (still wearing a smirk), Flash turned to Batman. The Dark Knight, looking slightly crimson, didn't explain.

"About?"

"Batman and I went to the past," Superman explained, pulling away from the hug and allowing Flash to breath. "We didn't know whether you would still exist."

"Well- that sucks, I guess," Wally replied, not really sure how one should respond to such a claim. He paused. "...How?" Superman's mouth opened to say something, but he suddenly turned, looking at Batman with a look of confusion on his face. Flash realized that Batman was whispering, so that Superman, with his superhearing, would be able to hear, but he and John would be unable to. "What are you guys talking about? Latest gossip?" Superman turned to him, and smiled, though it was strained.

"No, Flash. Batman was just telling me something."

"And that something was...?"

"Nothing important. It's, you know, secret identity stuff."

----

_It wasn't exactly a lie_, Bruce thought, as Flash made an o with his mouth, nodding in understanding.

"So...how'd you almost kill me?"

"Something to do with ice cream," Superman replied. "I don't want to get into any more detail." And Flash just shrugged, grinning at John, who muttered,

"Only you could manage to be endangered by ice cream." After a biting retort from Flash ('Ever heard of Captain Cold!?') Batman followed the trio, towards, since Flash was leading, the kitchen.

--

"Jimmy!" Lily shrieked. "Get offa me!" She shoved her brother off, then ran away. Her friend Janie giggled and ran with her around the field, and over the small hills. Jimmy laughed and shook his head.

"Nope- no cheating, Lily. You're it!" She stuck her tongue out, and called back,

"Ladies First!"

"What does that mean?" He responded, looking at his friend Kyle, who looked equally confused.

"It means we're first to ignore the rules! You have to tag me _twice_!" Kyle looked at Jimmy, then muttered,

"I'm never trusting girls again."

--

And that was the dramatic ending of a dramatic story. Sorry for all the long waits, and thank you so much for sticking with me.

I'd also like to add, that I'm a horrible person. I lied to you, over and over. I said the next chapter I wrote would be longer (in every single chapter) then apologized that that chapter was short. Well...on that note... if this story had another chapter, it would be 2000 words. Not kidding. Love you all! Peace!

BTW, just to make it clear, Lily and James had a normal life. Well, not normal since their parents probably gave them to an orphanage, but they had a happy life, without, you know, crazy powers or experiments where they were the lab rats. Superman now knows a big secret about Flash, and Flash has no clue. I might make a sequel if I get an idea for it (because I did have an idea for one a while back), but it's gonna be a while, because I wanna finish the other stories I'm working on first. If there _is _a sequel, there will probably be a confrontation between Flash and either Supes or Bats about their trip to the past. We might get to see what Flash remembers about the fellow who punched his daddy, too.

Thanks again for reading, and may the Beatles be with you!


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